Another Nut That Needs To Dust!

2011-12-20T08:55:00.000-08:00

Boys,

I was taught a very valuable lesson recently and guess who the teacher was? You! Both of you, actually! Now, this happens often to parents, but rarely do we slow down enough to accept the lesson. It is very humbling to know a 3 year old and a 1 year old can teach what you should have known all along. What you should have been teaching them.

I hope by the time you read this it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to you. I hope you are not nodding your head saying “Yep that sounds like mama alright!”. I would like to think I have grown in the years since I wrote this letter, that I have truly taken this lesson to heart.

You see, as of 2011 I have a major hang up which, in a matter of seconds can take me from a Praise-The-Lord-Hallelujah fit to a Pulling-My-Hair-Out-I-Hate-Life fit. Seriously, I admit it is really bad and unacceptable. What is this horrible hang up? My clothes (and hair if I am being honest)… ok let’s just say my appearance overall. Or at least my perception of my appearance at any point in time. Absurd… truly!

So, anyway… one night your father thought he would help me out and put the clothes from the washer in the dyer for me. Not until the dryer buzzed in completion did I realize that my jeans were in there… MY JEANS HAD BEEN DRIED! Oh boys, boys, boys… mama does not dry her jeans. Things happen in the dryer and they happen to only my clothes. They shrink at least 2 sizes. Seriously my loves, I’m even considering opting out of drying my underwear! Shrunken underwear is worse than shrunken jeans! Trust me….

Well, at the realization of my surely shrunken jeans I sailed up from whatever I was doing and I started crying. I really cried. Not only had my jeans been dried… but they were my fat jeans! You know that onepair of jeans that you can always wear and they don’t touch you anywhere?? Those jeans had been shrunk… they were no longer my fat jeans, but rather just my jeans. I had to go to bed, emotionally spent at the thought of what tomorrow morning would be like when I tried to put them on.

I got up early the next morning to work out… maybe if really gave it my all, I would lose a few pounds before getting dressed. I waited until your father left for work to get dressed. A quick little prayer later I slid my jeans on. They fit… they fit like any other pair of jeans. They were no longer my fat jeans, they touched me. I cried. I am not kidding you, I cried. I put on my makeup… tears being shed the entire time. I did my hair and of course it laid up there like a dead rat that had been moussed and blow dried! Pure sadness all the way around. At this point I threw the brush… threw it in rage. I can tell you it was not the first time I took my bad hair day out on my hair brush. Odd behavior…

Oh well, who cares… I’m just a sad old mother. May as well go buy a mini-van and wear elastic waistband the rest of my life. This is when I decided to get you boys ready. Oh Landon, you looked precious but honey you crawled behind me for at least 100 minutes crying, wanting to be picked up. You kept pulling on my legs all the while rubbing snot down the backside of my shrunken jeans. Nerves hanging on by a thread at this point.If I could just get your teeth brushed, Andrew and hair done I could get out the door and be done! Oh Andrew, at age 3 you do not stand still at all. Your hair was askew and toothpaste had dropped on your shirt. I lost it. I yelled at you both… I may have thrown your hair brush too.

You both started crying and I so did I. I was so ashamed because I had taken my shrunken jeans out on you. I picked you up (Andrew) and told you I was sorry and I loved you very much. I told you both it was not your fault mama was sad and I was wrong to yell at you. Landon, you smiled at me as if I was the greatest, most perfect person in the world. And in your little 1 year old eyes, I was. Andrew, you said ‘I forgive you mommy.’ And when I said ‘Thank-You, buddy’, you said ‘You should have some candy, it’ll make you feel better’. How sweet are you?

Once I got you dropped off at school and I got quiet for a few minutes, God really started to deal with me. He reminded me of Proverbs 31. Every churched woman in the world aspires to be a Proverbs 31 woman. Two verses were very appropriate on this morning:

She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. (Prov 31:25)

Clothed in strength & dignity? Nowhere were my jeans mentioned. I certainly had not been clothed in either strength or dignity this morning. And I certainly was not laughing.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. (Prov.31:30)

Every woman in the world needs to hide this verse in her heart. Boy do I have to go back to it on a daily basis. This world really wants me to believe my worth is found in my pants size and youthful skin, but that is not what God cares about (however, he does care about being healthy – another topic for another day). God is far more concerned about matters of the heart. He is concerned about my relationship with Him. Where I stand with Him flows directly into my relationship with others – particularly you and your father.

I sat in the parking lot of worked and just cried and asked the Lord to forgive me. I asked him to help me to focus on the things that matter. To put my outward beauty into proper perspective and not lose sight of what is important in His eyes. I would much rather be a good, Godly mother and wife than to turn heads when I walk down the street.

I also thought about what true forgiveness is. You boys had been the face of what forgiveness should look like. I was not kind to either of you. You had every right to be mad at me. But, when I asked you to forgive me, you not only smiled and did so, but you tried to make me feel better. Landon you just gave me a look of adoration and Andrew, you tried to fix it with candy. No, candy couldn’t fix it, but your sweet, Christ-like attitude went a long way in helping.

I thank God for you both daily. You are so sweet and so very special. You truly are gifts to this world and I know God his hand on you. I thank Him that he made me slow down a little and learn a lesson from 2 small children. I pray that as you grow in both wisdom & knowledge, that you will never cease to learn lessons from ‘the least of these’. Sometimes we are the teacher and sometimes we are the student. God is always working in your lives, so stay alert, learn from your mistakes and be willing to teach others!

Love you much,
Mama

2011-10-28T14:08:00.000-07:00

Boys,

"God has not called us to be successful. He has called us to be faithful."
– Mother Teresa

I have had that quote scribbled on a post-it note at work for over 2 years, just above my computer
monitor. I look at it about 50 times a day and really meditate on it. I have wanted to write about it since I first found it. I have started a post countless times and I always get stuck. I just cannot seem to convey in words the truthfulness and deep conviction I sense every time I read it.

Earlier this week I sat myself down to finally finish the post; it has been nearly 2 months since
my last entry – the time is now. Stuck again! I am really not a writer, so I cannot claim writers block. I can’t claim lack of knowledge since all I want to convey is what is actually in my heart and head. So what is it Lord, why can I not write about what seems so important to me?

Finally, the answer… I don’t need to ‘teach’ you the importance and meaning of Mother Teresa’s
statement. I just need to show it to you and then it is up to you what you do with it.

You see, my sweet boys, if you really allow that statement to resonate with you, it could
dramatically change the course of your lives. That statement completely contradicts
the conventional ‘wisdom’ of this world. You are already (at 3 years old & 10 months old) being prepped for a lifetime of great achievement. Your father and I will actually be judged on your success in life. What you need to know and hold tightly to is the fact that the world’s definition of success and God’s definition of success is totally different.

True success is not measured by money or the things you have. It is not measured by the number
of people who know your name or how many books are written by you or about you. Sure, God’s plan for your life may be CEO of a major company or a Nobel Peace Prize winner. But, it may be that God has called you to be one of the greatest missionaries of modern time – like Mother Teresa, with very little material possessions. Chances are it is somewhere in between. I don’t know what he has created you for...

My prayer for you as you grow into young men and then men and then old men, is that you
continually seek the Lord’s purpose for you in life. He does have a purpose for you. His word specifically tells us that:

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. – Jeremiah 29:11

Those plans may go dramatically against what you have planned for yourself and certainly what the world has planned for you. We must, as His children, prayerfully seek His guidance and commit to stay the course. Sure, you may (and probably will) get side tracked from time to time, but get back in line with His plan for you and keep on keepin’ on.

It is only… ONLY … through faithfulness to God that you will ever taste true success.

I Love, Love, Love You,
Mama

2011-08-03T15:20:00.000-07:00

Boys,

I love you, Lord, my strength. Ps 18:1

I am so excited to write you this letter today. God has been burning this letter & this revelation in my heart for about a month now. I pray that it will speak to you and open your eyes the way it has opened mine. It is simply a letter about saying ‘I Love You’!

Andrew, recently you told me you loved me out of the blue. You just ran your little legs up to me and said ‘I love you’… unprompted. My heart melted! When I say ‘I love you, buddy’ you respond ‘I love you too’. My heart melts…

Landon, you are too young to tell me you love me. You have no vocabulary at the ripe old age of 7 months! But, when I walk into a room your face lights up and you kick your legs in jubilee! This is how you say ‘I love you’. When you are crying and I walk by, you hold your hands up for me and when I pick you up; you lay your head on my shoulder and sigh. That sigh is ‘I love you’… my heart melts every single time.

There are no words to accurately describe what is felt when your child says ‘I love you’. I hope & pray that I never grow so accustomed to hearing it that my heart ceases to melt at the proclamation. I pray as long as we live there is a constant communication of “I love you”… “I love you too”.

One day recently, as I reflected on how great it was to hear those words from your child, I felt sadness. I thought how terrible it must be for parents who children do not tell them they love them. Those children who have total disregard for all the things mama & daddy do and sacrifice just for their children. How heartbreaking to give all of you for your child and to get little to nothing in return from them. No I love you… no thank you… just take, take and take some more. As much as a parent loves a child, to get no expression of love in return must be the worst feeling in the world.

Light Bulb! Sometimes, the Holy Spirit can really swoop right down and grab you by the shoulders and shake you until your teeth nearly fall out. I cannot tell you the number of times since becoming a mama that the Lord has said to me “How much more do I love you”?

You see, I love you boys so much it hurts sometimes, but how much MORE does He love me? I cannot fathom! If I long to hear you say ‘I love you’ how much more does He desire to hear it from me? If my heart melts because of a mere smile you give me when you see me, how much more does he desire that reaction from me? I take and I take from him, blessing after blessing and yet day after day I find myself too busy to say ‘Thank You, I love you’.

Oh, like a dagger to the heart! I do love the Lord… I really do, but I am really lacking in my communication with him. And he loves me enough to point it out to me. I don’t want to go another day without telling Him that I love him and thanking him for all he has given me. I want you to be raised in a home where you see this lived out in front of you. As you grow, I want you to understand where your blessings come from and I want you to know how to return love to him. Sure, you’ll fall short, but I pray your heart is open to his voice when he convicts you of that.

I love you my sweet, sweet boys. I love you more than you could ever imagine, but how much more does he love you? Acknowledge it and return it!

Mama

2011-07-21T09:24:00.000-07:00

Boys,

Last night, both of you at separate times, snuggled and slept next to me for a while. We shared one pillow and I pulled you close. I kissed your sweet faces about 20 million times and it never once occurred to me that I, myself needed to get to sleep. I am tired today and that’s ok!

I laid there with you pulled up next to me and I prayed for you. Praying for your children, I think, is the very best thing you can do for them. My prayer was simple, really just thanking God for allowing me the privilege to be your mama. Asking him to bless you and to give me the wisdom to raise you in such a way that you grow to know him... to really know him!

I’m not a perfect mama, Lord knows that is true. I work rather than stay home with you. I have no real TV policy – you watch more than the recommended 1 hour a day. I let you eat poptarts and sometimes forget to brush your teeth. I just fall short sometimes; often…

But I love you. I love, love, love, love, love you. I want the best for you. I don’t want the worlds best for you; I want God’s best for you. That’s the sweet spot my loves and don’t you ever let this world tell you otherwise!

Be good & do good because you are good; created by a loving God in his image for might works!!!

Love, Love, Love,
Mama

2011-07-13T14:59:00.001-07:00

Boys,

By the time you read this you will have no doubt heard the phrase ‘Thank God for unanswered prayers!’ People are known to say this all the time and while it makes for a great country song, I don’t think it is accurate at all. It is my belief and certainly my experience that God always answers the prayers of his children with one of three answers.

Sometimes God says ‘not now’…

I met your father in August of 2005, but it was in July that God impressed upon my heart that our meeting was very near. I know, that sounds absurd, but for real, God does actually communicate with his children. Anyway… I had an impromptu lunch with your daddy and a co-worker and I knew he was ‘The One’. Well as you know, a short 8 months later we were engaged! A mere 6 months into the engagement (and 2 months before the wedding), the panic attacks started which led to us postponing the wedding.

Of course anytime you postpone an already planned wedding – everyone thinks the wedding will never happen. This includes the persons who used the word ‘postponed’ in the first place (ME). I was heart-broken and confused to say the least. I was standing in my backyard late one night and it was quiet and the moon was full; I remember it like it was yesterday. My heart was in so much pain and I just looked up and cried “I don’t understand”. That’s what my mouth said, but my heart was pouring out the assurances God had given time and again that your daddy was, indeed, ‘the one’. “I thought he was the one… I don’t understand”. Just like that, God said “He is… just not right now”. What???

Well, you know the rest of the story. The wedding went from being postponed, to being called off to “here’s the ring back” and then… then God said “It’s time”. There have been ups & downs, but we were wise to listen and to wait. The things he taught us in that time of waiting better prepared us for marriage and all the things that come with sharing your life with someone else. It also gave us a sense of commitment going into the marriage that otherwise may not have been there.

Sometimes God says ‘no’…

Soon after the wedding – much too soon – we were greeted with the wonderful news that in 6 months we would be having a baby. I recall feeling many things at that moment, but joy was not one of them. I was scared, angry and terribly disappointed. This could not be. I am not the poster child for shotgun weddings. I cried and cried and when I could cry no more, I just made groaning, woe-is-me sounds.

I’ve written this before and it is as hard now as it was then, but I had hoped to lose the pregnancy. I felt sure God would spare me the humiliation of telling everyone I was pregnant when I got married. Please God, please take it away. God said No…

Andrew Nathan… you are here because God said no! My eyes are filled with tears because I am still in awe of how great my God is. How gracious He is and how thankful I am for the no’s he has given me. I cannot look at you nor think of you without uttering a prayer of thankfulness.

Sometimes God says ‘yes’...

And then, two years later your daddy & I knew we wanted another baby to love. We prayed and asked the Lord in his time, would he bless us with another gift just as special as Andrew. We didn’t have to wait long to get his answer. It seems as quickly as we asked God said yes! And before I knew it, my belly was great with child once again.

Those 9 months went by so quickly and we went from a family of three to a family of four. Landon, you are my little love bug. You are the sweetest ‘yes’ in my life. Had I not walked the hard road of ‘not now’ & ‘no’, I doubt I could have known what a blessing the ‘yes’ was. I honestly can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you both. Even long before you were ever given to me, I loved you. The journey here has been long and treacherous at times. There have been days when I wanted to pull my hair out, but every day has been a blessing. He has held me through it all and he is holding you too.

You will ask God for many things as you walk through life. Some things will be frivolous and self-serving while other things will be the earnest pleas of your heart. Know that regardless of the answer, God will not only answer, but he is sovereign in that answer. I know it is hard to trust the Lord sometimes, but had I not trusted him life would be much different for me… and you as well. The yes’s are sweet, but the “not-now’s” and “no’s” contain blessings that cannot be met or replaced by any other answer. “Lean not on your own understanding…”, but lean fully into the goodness of the Lord.

All my love,
Mama

2011-06-20T18:51:00.000-07:00

Boys,

The other day I watched you as you did your thing. Andrew, your thing was building a garage with your Lego’s and singing ‘Oh, How I Love Jesus’ quietly while you played. You only sing quietly when it slips your mind that you may have an audience. Landon, your thing was bouncing yourself to sleep in the bouncer that hangs from our bedroom door. We have been thankful for that thing more than once!

I watched you both and thought of how much I love you. I tried to think of the words to express it, but nothing would come to mind. Every word I thought of seemed so trivial and undeserving of my love for you. So, I thought I would make a list of things I love in comparison to my love for you:

* When the air starts to smell like fall and the grass is so cool you can't help but walk barefoot in it.
* Warm cobbler (any cobbler) with vanilla ice cream just slightly melted over the top
* Morning coffee with no rush to be anywhere
* Road trips
* Shoes
* Florida State Football... and Bobby Bowden
* Sitting on Papa & Grandmama's porch
* Melted cheese
* Pancakes cooked in butter
* Office supplies
* Every day from October 1st - January 1st
* Flip Flops
* A plate of fresh white acre peas, macaroni & cheese, collard greens & creamed corn
* Pajamas and fuzzy socks
* Bobby Bowden (mentioned again because I love him so much)
* Raspberry Pomegranate frozen yogurt with Fruity Pebbles on it (this is a new love)
* Speaking of Fruity Pebbles… sugar cereal for supper!
* Wearing your great-grandma’s costume jewelry
* Dark Chocolate

I love all of these things… but, take the love I have for each of these and add it up – It doesn’t even come close to the love I have for you! Do you understand what I am saying? I just told you that I love you more than Bobby Bowden. I have never said that to anyone in my entire life. Please don’t make me regret it!

Love,
Mama

2011-05-26T10:00:00.000-07:00

Andrew,

We recently celebrated your third birthday and I cannot believe how fast time has flown by. It seems like just yesterday they placed you in my arms. I have to be honest, my first thoughts were not all that positive. It was fear at first sight – not the love all the magazines had led me to believe I would feel. Oh but how my love for you continues to grow. How God continues to use you daily to bless me and to bless others. Even if I combined every language known to man, I still could not accurately express how much love I have for you.

The morning of your birthday I posted a ‘Happy Birthday’ message on Facebook. I’m sure by the time you read this, you will have no idea what Facebook is and Google will no longer exists to aide you in your search to find out. Just know that it was all the rage when you were 3 years old… even Grandmama had an account. She said she never used it and thought it was silly… but she has been known to call me with information she found about someone sisters husbands best friends dogs previous owner. Some days it is a real mess!

Back to the original point… I quoted Numbers 6:24-26 as a prayer for you that day. “The Lord bless you and keep you. May his face shine upon you and be gracious and give you peace”. I have been quoting that scripture continually since that day. Mercy Me also put out a song in reference to the scripture “Bless Me Indeed” which I cannot stop singing. It will forever be my prayer for you and for Landon. It says all I could ever want for you in life.

In the last 3 years you have made me laugh and cry and every emotion in between! At just 3 months old you got your first fever in the middle of the night. I rocked you and cried with you until it passed. When you were just 6 months old we took you to the pumpkin patch to have your picture made and you were nearly as fat as the fattest pumpkin. I almost ate you right then and there!

When you were a year old I gave you your first sippy cup. I have forever vowed to keep alcohol as far from you as possible because the way you slung your head back and downed that juice made you a good candidate for an alcoholic! I have the video to prove it…

When you started to toddle around I got a call from the day care that you had fallen and I needed to come get you. My heart broke… you were fine, but your eye looked horrible. Black & blue the next day – I cried again. You were resilient though – running within days of walking. My little weight loss plan, you are.

You turned 2 and the simple words gave way to full sentences. The personality God gave you started to shine through in the most amazing way. I started to realize that you were everything I prayed you would be. Some days that was good… other days I went to bed very tired! You became a big brother and in spite of the fact that you have tried to pull his arms off, throw him out of my lap and hit him with a magazine – he adores you!

Now you are 3! You talk from the moment you wake up until the very second you fall asleep. You ask questions that make no sense and are not satisfied until I give an equally absurd answer. You are hard headed and stubborn. You ask for milk and when I say ok, you say ‘No, I want juice’. If I give you a poptart (yes, I fed you poptarts for breakfast regularly against the advice of your pediatrician) and the corner accidentally broke off before I handed it to you, you would protest and refuse to eat it. This would of course leave me no option other than to eat it myself!

You are not perfect, but you are pretty close in my opinion. You are God’s smile personified in my life. You are a blessing and a joy. Thank you for just being you. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May his face shine upon you and be gracious and give you peace.

All my love,
Mama

2011-05-18T14:52:00.000-07:00

My Sweet Boys,

I want to tell you about something so personal that I have never told another living soul. You may wonder why I would chose now to share this and why on Earth in a blog that would be ready by many people before either of you ever have the chance? Well, we just celebrated Easter and I am reminded of just how much God loves us. How much he loves me and he loves you. I want you to know that you are never alone, you have never gone too far and you are never out of His reach. People need to know this and you do too.

I am certain that by the time you read this you will have long since been aware of my history with fear, anxiety & panic. I have every desire to be upfront and honest with you as I walk through each dark day. I need you to know that dark days come for us all. You will hear that ‘God is always there’ so many times in life that you may become complacent about the idea. Please guard your heart against this. I know sometimes it is the last thing you want to hear and that is ok as long as you always remember its truth!

Not long before your daddy and I got married, I was in the midst of my worst battle with panic & anxiety to date (at least up until I wrote this). I had gotten to the point where I had some good moments, even days, but then it would return. I felt no hope that it would ever leave or that I would ever be normal again… EVER! Let me just tell you that you do not have to feel hope to have hope.

This particular day was bad. It was morning and I had spent every waking second with shortness of breath, a pit in my stomach and the weight of an elephant on my chest. I carried on as normal because at that time I thought ignoring it was best –it wasn’t and God has shown me that over the years. Finally, as I was showering, I could not control it any longer. I was in a full blown panic attack and I was scared.

I got out of the shower, wrapped myself in a towel fell to my face on the bedroom floor. It was just me and God and I knew with every fiber of my being that He was all I had. Lying there that morning I poured my heart out to Him. The only words that would come out of my mouth were ‘take it all, but don’t take you. You can have everything, just don’t take you Lord.’

I have never meant anything more than those words. I knew that I could survive anything that came my way as long as He was with me. I would give it all up – everything and everyone that was important to me – He could have it all. Just stay with me Lord. In that very moment He rushed to me. I am not dramatizing here… he rushed to me. I keep searching for another way to explain this, but that is literally what happened. He held me, he picked me up and he has NEVER left me. He never will. His promises are true.

I would like to tell you that that day was my last battle with anxiety & panic attacks, but that would be a lie. They subsided for a while, but came back shortly after you were born, Andrew. That was worse than anything I had experienced before. Anxiety causes me to detach from emotion. It leaves me incapable of loving the way a mother should love. It is scary and I hate it. Every time – every single time anxiety creeps up – I go back to that day. My heart cries those same words “take it all, just don’t take you”.

Those words are harder now, because you, my sweet boys, you are part of the ‘all’. You are my very breath. You make my heart smile and life worthwhile… but HE is my everything and I place all he has given me back in his hands. I hope by the time you read this, your heart will agree that he is your everything too.

I don’t know how life will be for you when you read this. I know dark days have come, are here or are coming –all three if you live long enough. Please know this… he doesn’t only rush to me. He rushes to those who call on him. I cannot imagine anyone loving you more than I do, but He surely does. Hold on sweet boys… hold on to the hand that created you. Hold on to the one who gave you to me. Put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, stand (Eph 6:13)!

All My Love,
Mama

2011-03-14T08:36:00.000-07:00

For the Boys

My Sweet Boys,

I started thinking about both of you over the weekend and about all that I hoped to be able to teach you in the years ahead. I thought about your early school years and how you would need to learn that all people are to be treated with kindness and respect. Your teenage years will be full of tough choices and would speak to your integrity and character. Teenage years are followed by your twenties and while your choices will not fully define who you will become, they will linger with you for a very long time. Navigating life is tough and you will not always do it correctly.

My job, as your mother is to help you along the way. I love being mama to you both, but like you, I do not always make the right choices either. You don’t recognize it as much right now because you are too young; you simply love me in spite of it all. Regardless of my shortcomings, I still relish every day God gives me to guide and equip you with what you need to lead the successful life God has planned for you. I also hope you grow into an understanding of what God’s definition of success is.

Watching the news gives you a real wake up call to the fragility of life. It is true; our life is vapor – here today and gone tomorrow. All parents think about the possibility of something happening to them while their children are small and all they would miss as they began to grow up. I think about this often (a little too often if the truth be told). If something were to happen to me while you are still young boys, who will teach all there is to know?

Of course, I am not downplaying your fathers’ ability to raise you into outstanding men; he is, however chosen by God to be your father. That being said, I believe there are things you need to learn from both of us. It is for this reason that I have decided to write down the things I have learned as some of life’s greatest lessons. I just want to write life letters for you. Where ever you are in life, whatever choice you find yourself having to make, I want you to be able to pick up what I have written and maybe, hopefully find some wisdom. Consider this the first one and know that there will be many more to come. Sure, they will be on a public blog for anyone to read, but know they are written from my heart to you.

As a note, I am only in my early 30’s as I write this, so if you are trying to navigate a mid-life crisis or retirement, I may be of no use right now. I still need my mama to help navigate those waters for me. You see, we always need our mama’s and our mama’s are always there for us in one way or another. I pray you always know that; I will always love you and I will always be here for you.

I love you ‘to infinity & beyond’,
Mama

Grace and Mercy

2011-02-25T09:46:00.001-08:00

Grace: unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification

There have been many times in my life when I received God’s grace – none more important than when I was saved. The intent of this post is in no way to downplay or overshadow the Grace and Mercy shown to me on that day. It is, however a post to marvel at how the Lord continues to bestow his Grace and Mercy on me.

I have written many times of my struggles in coming to terms with the timing of my pregnancy with Andrew. As most of you know, finding myself 3 weeks married and 3 months pregnant was devastating to say the least. I wasn’t ashamed of getting ‘caught’, but rather of not staying true to my convictions. It took many, many months to overcome that shame and I still struggle today. It is very hard to watch people’s faces when they begin doing the math!

I struggled with so much shame that I couldn’t even figure out how to love my child once he was here. I went through the motions of motherhood, but didn’t really feel like what I thought a new mother should feel like. Slowly, overtime, I realized that I did indeed love this child. Then I got up the next day and it was a little stronger. Stronger still the next until the realization and panic hit me all at once. I was going to get up every day loving Andrew more than I did the day before. And then one day my heart would explode. Cause of death: Heart failure for loving her child too much! Is that possible?

Around Andrew’s one year birthday, I realized how gracious God had been toward me. I deserved no Grace to be shown to me, but Andrew was pure Grace in my life. When I look at him, even in the most frustrating of moments, I can literally feel God’s Grace like sunshine on a warm day. There are times I am feel frozen in awe and grateful that God knows my heart and how truly thankful I am for this precious gift of Grace in my life. I pray that Andrew will always know that even in disobedience, God can make all things beautiful and he is living example of this truth.

With the acceptance of God’s Grace came the realization of all that I had missed because I chose to live in shame. Once my sins had been repented of, I should have turned it loose and lived free of the same, but being human, I suppose, I couldn’t. I missed out on the joy of being pregnant with Andrew, the joy of birth and all the firsts that come in the first year of life. Sure, I have many memories, but mostly I have worry & anxiety of how I would explain having a 6 month old on my 1 year anniversary! I never felt I deserved to enjoy motherhood the way other mothers did. I always felt that if I enjoyed it or embraced it that would give the impression that I wasn’t remorseful for the circumstances. How absurd!

Mercy: a blessing that is an act of divine favor or compassion

We always knew we wanted more children. I wanted 4 and George wanted 2, so 3 seems to be a nice compromise (although now George wants to halt at 2, which I find borderline breach of contract!). When Andrew was 18 months old we started talks of trying for baby #2 with the hope that they would be around 3 years apart in age. Within a few months we got the news… baby #2 would be here by Christmas!

I recall the night before I found out I was pregnant. I thought I had missed the window and we would have to see if the next month held hope for us. I was disappointed and saddened thinking Andrew may be an only child. Now, this, if nothing else proves that I am indeed a product of the ‘microwave generation’! We had only been ‘trying’ for 1 month and I felt that I would NEVER get pregnant – get a life Libby! I sat in Andrew’s bedroom as he played with his blocks and vowed that if he was the only child God ever gave me, I was thankful for him and would satisfied with just him – and I meant it. To my delight, however, I found out the next morning that I was already 5 weeks pregnant!

I couldn’t wait to share my joy with everyone I knew. Finally I got to call home with the wonderful news of pregnancy. I was able to call my friends with excitement in my voice. I found out about Landon at 5 weeks and I was able to enjoy every moment of my pregnancy.

The first trimester came with some morning sickness – nothing major, but it was there and I hated it. Oddly, I loved being able to hate it. I loved being able to chose how I felt about being pregnant – the good and the bad. I counted the days until I felt the fist kick. Trying desperately to compare this pregnancy with Andrews, but I kept saying ‘I just don’t remember…’

The second trimester came with the passing of morning sickness, the arrival of heartburn and the news that my baby was A BOY! Ok, at first I wasn’t thrilled but within a few days I was very excited about having another boy. I mean, after all saying ‘The boys…’ has a much nicer ring to it than ‘The kids…’. Day after day we tried to pick a name until finally we agreed on Landon – and to this day we are trying to decide if we should keep that name! I guess we must now because sure enough, the kid is starting to grow into the name ‘Landon George’!

Landon was born on Monday December 6th at 8:02 am. The birth was much like that of Andrew’s birth (dreaded c-section), but this time I was able to see Landon as soon as they pulled him out. He had the loudest cry (which he still has) and lots of dark, curly hair. I remember looking at him and noticing he was smaller than Andrew (a full pound) and thinking “Who is having a baby in here today? That is not my kid!” But it was… that curly haired screamer was my baby boy… baby boy #2. Instantly I loved him. God has shown me such mercy... a second chance to embrace all that is motherhood.

Landon’s birth put an order in my life that I hadn’t had before. Suddenly, my priorities aligned as they should. I am a wife and mother… and I am confident in those roles. I know I make so many mistakes, but God has entrusted these boys (all 3 of them) to me. I love them. I love the dirty diapers, the 3 am feedings (a little less love for that), watching Andrew turn bath time into pool time, the celebration we have when he goes a full day in his big boy underwear. I love it all… even when I am so tired and the look on my face says I hate it. I love it. I love them.

I have been home with Landon for 12 weeks now. Today is my last day at home with him before he enters the cruel world of day care. OK, Andrew is proof positive that it isn’t a cruel world. But, honestly, I am very sad and torn about dropping both kids off Monday morning. I kind of want to stay home and bake cookies and do arts and crafts with them. You know, all the things that my mama did with me. HAHA… that was a joke. But seriously, she took me to Burger King every Monday for chicken tenders and a coke. Those are fond memories and that’s what I want for my boys.

God is good. That is a complete and truthful statement that doesn’t change based on our circumstances. God is gracious and he is merciful. It is a truth in my life and in yours. I don’t know what Grace and Mercy look like to you. But, for me, Grace and Mercy look like Andrew Nathan & Landon George. They are gifts.

2010-07-31T02:00:00.000-07:00

The LORD is good,
a refuge in times of trouble.
He cares for those who trust in him. Nahum 1:7

God is good! We have all, for the most part, said these words at some point in our lives. Almost always these words are said after something good has happened. Tuesday, a week ago, I received word that my very best friend got concerning news on her 20 week ultrasound. She is due to deliver her first child the same week I am due to delivery my second child. She was told there was something wrong with the baby’s heart. We have since learned that there is a larger chance it is nothing (possibly nothing more than a shadow), but for 2 days we were led to believe the worst. My heart broke and I sobbed for those 2 days. I kept repeating “God is good even when the news isn’t”. I really wanted to write about that then, but the words wouldn’t come.

It is 3:30 am and I have not slept since at all. As most of you know, we received word that Ty (my brother) has a mass on his brain. This came out of nowhere really, he was just having some vision problems this week and now, here we are. He will undergo a biopsy in a few short hours to determine what it is and for the second time in less than 2 weeks, my heart is broke. I will be flying to Tallahassee on the early flight at 7:00 am to be with Ty and my family, but what can I do exactly?

I guess I can pray… that is what you would tell me to do, right? That is what many of you are doing (and the prayers are coveted). But today, my prayers seem hollow. They seem like they are going nowhere and while I pray I am being attacked and told things that I know are untrue. It is in times like these when the quiet voice of God is hard to hear over the shouting voice of Satan. I know, however, that Truth remains true even when words won’t come and answer are unclear. I know that God is good.

I went for my ultrasound on Tuesday. I was a little saddened to learn that the Caroline in my stomach was actually an unnamed little boy. I was thrilled to learn, however, that he is perfectly healthy. I sat waiting for my doctor while praising the Lord for such good news. How great he is that he can create something so perfect! I marvel at his goodness. I cannot and I will not praise Him one day and curse him the next. Sure, I’m scared and honestly there is some anger mixed in there as well. I just don’t understand.

As I struggle for sleep I cannot get the words out of my head ‘The God on the mountain is still God in the valley’. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know what the results of this biopsy will bring. I don’t know when the tears will stop, when the fear will subside or when the loud voice of Jesus will drown out the enemy. But I do know that God is good. He is faithful. I will trust Him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V65EPF2S-s0&feature=related

Lessons in the Night

2010-06-08T13:42:00.000-07:00

Like most married couples with children, George and I have our best conversations late at night once the kid(s) have gone to bed. These conversations can be anything from decline of our nation to what’s for dinner tomorrow night. Most of the time it’s about our parenthood survival plan – this involves fear and trembling!

A few weeks ago we were laying there and George asked a very simple yet important question. He asked ‘Why is it that so many people seemingly worship the Virgin Mary’. I could feel myself getting in position to ‘teach’ him. I do that sometimes. George often comes to me and asks me ‘Bible’ questions and I find myself sometimes prideful because I know the answer and can enlighten him. Such a good little Christian I am.

I first explained to George that it annoys me when people call Mary ‘The Virgin Mary’… news flash, she had other children after Jesus. Their father was Joseph. She birthed them. Are you following me here? The Virgin Mary is just Mary now. Can we please post that in the bulletin this Sunday?

I then got a little more serious with him. It is a topic I have given much thought. I mean, I don’t want to give someone less honor than they deserve. Should I honor Mary more than I do? What Mary did was incredible, there is no doubt. She was the vessel for the Son of God to make His way to Earth and die for our sins. Where would we be today without that? Sacrificing lambs I suppose.

Let’s first look at what Mary was. First she ‘Highly Favored’ by God (Luke 1:28), she was good. Second she was a sinner. Romans 3:23 says ‘For all have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God’. All means all. Third she was obedient. She was scared and feared what would happen to her if she carried this child, being unwed at the time. But, she was obedient to God’s call.

None of us can deny that God used Mary in a mighty way. But when you look at Mary you should rejoice and get excited. Might the Lord want to use you in a mighty way? Mary was a sinner who needed a savior. No different than you and I. Mary could have said no. You may think that she had no choice, but in her heart I believe she did. Had she not been obedient what do you think would have happened? I’ll tell you what. We would be talking about the Virgin ‘Rachel’ or ‘Hannah’ or ‘Jane’ or someone else who was obedient. When we are not obedient to God’s calling he finds someone else who will be. Mary was replaceable, lucky for her, she chose to obey.

George and I had a good talk that night. I rolled over and continued in my thoughts. I just couldn’t understand why some people, many people worship a person. Why can’t people just see that Mary is a person, much like you and I? That’s when it happened… that still, small voice. The Lord very gently pointed out to me that I am so guilty of the same thing. Huh? I don’t worship Mary!

Libby, he said, You have been striving to be an ‘Esther’ since your early 20’s. You have prayed to be like King David – to be woman after God’s own heart (Acts 13:22). You have hoped to have the heart and determination of Paul. You have fallen short so often. Ouch…
He was right. It became clear to me that I, and so many Christians, look to our “Bible Hero’s” for a role model, a guide as to who we need to be. Why do I do that? There is only one person to be looking to. Jesus… as Christian’s we need to strive to be more Christ-like, not more ‘Paul-like’, ‘Esther-like’ or ‘Mary-like’. As we become more like Christ – He will increase and we will decrease (John 3:30). And when that happens, we are used in mighty ways.

The Prayers of a Mother

2010-05-10T13:20:00.000-07:00

I get the joy of celebrating Mothers Day and Andrew’s birthday in the same week each year. While Mother’s day isn’t a holiday I think of myself on (for me, it is about the Mothers in my life), I have a constant reminder that it is indeed about me. You see, two years ago this week I brought that sweet child home and much to my surprise no one has come to take him back. Those people at the hospital really sent him home with me thinking I had the ability to raise him. Someone should tell them about the bottle of tap water I nearly gave him at 2 weeks old!

Things went well for a while and I fell head over heels in love with him. I mean I could eat him on a Frito – I just could not get enough of him. As I type this today…. 3 days before his second birthday, I realize that is all a part of God’s plan. You see… God, in his infinite wisdom gives you roughly 2 years to fall in love before he rips the mask off of what that child really is. An urchin, who wakes up in the morning plotting how to make you cry, scream, pull your hair out and consider becoming an alcoholic...all before noon. Just yesterday he slung refried beans across my kitchen, ran naked around the house making me chase him from one end to the other, ate half a crayon and spit the other half in my hand and filled a diaper so violently that I am still nauseous today! I was never so glad to see the nursery workers at church as I was at 9:30 am yesterday. I nearly left him until 6 pm.

As I laid down last night I had a major realization – Mother’s day is just another day to be a Mother. And this mother was tired. I laid there drifting off to sleep and I thought of my mother who I am sure was laying there thinking of her mother. I thought of how great a mother she has always been and how I hope to be half the woman she is. I thought about the many times over the years that she has been there when I needed her. Never complaining and never tiring. And then I thought about the best advice she ever gave me, as a mother. She told me, not long after the urchin I love so much was born, that the only way to raise children is on your knees, in prayer. I know this has been her method of raising kids… and I think she has done a great job.

I rolled over and I began to pray for Andrew. Now, this isn’t the first time I have prayed for my child. I pray for him regularly. I always pray for his safety while at school. I pray for his well being and the normal things parents pray for their children. But, as I watch Andrew begin to grow up, I am faced with the reality that he is becoming more and more independent and with that comes less of a need for mama. Sure, I have a long time before he is totally independent, but the day will come and it will come quickly. Who will he be when that day comes?

I could just stand by and let life mold him into the man he will become. I could just do my best and hope he is all I have imagined. Or, I could pray. I can pray the prayer of Hannah (1 Samuel 27-28) and give what God has loaned me, back to Him. That has to be a constant decision. A constant acknowledgement that God knows what is best for my child and loves him more than I do. Hard to imagine sometimes, but I know it is truth.

As I prayed for Andrew the tears rolled. I know he will stumble and he will fall. I cannot pray that he doesn’t, it is a given that we all stumble & fall – it is why we need a Savior. It is why Andrew needs a savior. I pray for the day when he comes to know the Lord. What a glorious day that will be both in Heaven and on Earth. I pray that he will come to know all the plans that God has for him and that he is blessed beyond measure. I pray that he not only knows the Lord but has a relationship with Him and desires that closeness daily.

What I prayed for most of all was the hard times that will come his way during life’s journey. It was hard and it pained me to think of the trials he will go through. I want to save him from those tough times. Times that he brings on himself due to sin and times God just puts him through. I want to protect him from the hurt, but I cannot. And as much I want to, I would not. I am who I am today because I have scars on my knees and palms of my hands. I have fallen and I have gotten back up. I have fought many battles, but because of who I am in Christ, I have won.
I want Andrew to win. I want him to feel Grace and Mercy in a way that can only be felt when you ‘Get Up’ from the battle. I want Andrew to be used in a might way for Gods glory & for His honor. If he never walks through the fires of life, if he never messes up, if his halo never tilts then tell me how can he ever be used in a mighty way?

Andrew is special. Not because he is my child, but because he is God’s child. I will pray for him continually that he may grow into the man he was created to be. I will pray that he loves his God. I will pray that he gets up every time he falls down and that he unapologetically proclaims the Grace and Mercy of the God who created him.

2010-04-15T12:30:00.000-07:00

The object of teaching a child is to enable him to get along without his teacher.
~Elbert Hubbard

I have been thinking a lot recently about being brainwashed. I mean seriously, have you considered how easy it is to be brainwashed in this media crazed world we live in? Several years ago I stopped listening to rap music. I know… the thought of me listening to rap music is odd; odder still is the thought of me dancing to it in my car. I had moves… moves that George describes as seizure-like! I gave it up… but I do miss ‘the moves’.

Why did I give up rap music? Well, as you can imagine, the lyrics are really bad. The music is good (to me), but the message is B-A-D! I was at a point in my life where my convictions were being challenged greatly on a daily basis and the message I was getting on my 45 minute commute to & from work was not reinforcing my values. In fact, the message was making me ‘long’ to straddle the fence just enough to feel like a normal person; live my 20’s with gusto! What I knew in my heart never changed though and I eventually realized either the music had to go or my values did because the fact of the matter was ‘Ludicris’ was brainwashing me… and I was letting him.

You may have missed the big news, but I am a mama now. Crazy, isn’t it? It was a shock to me as well… a BIG shock! I try to be very purposeful in raising Andrew. I try to keep focused on the big picture… the man he becomes. I want him to realize and receive all the things the Lord has planned for his life. I would love to be the mother of the next Billy Graham. Maybe he will be musically inclined and win a DOVE award? Or maybe he will be a software developer and teach Sunday school or just be a greeter for the morning service? I don’t know what the Lord has for his life, but he has something and I want him to seek it out.

So, how do I guide him in his journey? Well, for starters we go to church – Sunday School too. We listen to children’s church songs on the car, watch Veggie Tales, say the blessing before dinner and say a prayer before bed. He has come to expect these things and can even say the prayer with me at night (although rather unclear) and don’t even get me started on the way he holds my hand, bows his head and says ‘Amen’ at dinner. Have you any idea how hard it is not to consume that child!

Most of you would say this makes me a good parent and for the most part I would agree – at least I try to be a good parent. But, what would you say of the Muslim family across the street that uses every opportunity to instill Muslim values into the lives of their Children? You would probably wouldn’t rush to call them good parents; although if pressed you may have a hard time putting your reasons into words.

I have heard it said many times and have actually said it myself – these children are brainwashed. We have no problem believing that children raised in homes that preach values drastically different from our own are brainwashed. So, doesn’t that mean that I am brainwashing Andrew? Wow, that’s a very hard thought. It came to me about a month ago and caused me to sit and really think about it.

I’m a Christian… I know what believe and more importantly, I know why I believe it. I have always known the ‘what’… always. I have known the ‘what’ because my parents and people near & dear to me told me the ‘what’ over and over and over again. But, the ‘what’ doesn’t get you very far in life, does it?

I am firm believer that you cannot truly believe something until you have questioned it. I cannot simply take what I have been taught my entire life and assume that in this world full of trials and temptations, those ’whats’ would prevail without a ‘why’! I cannot tell you how many times I have sat in silence with a piece of my faith, a conviction, a truth and questioned whether it was ‘The Truth’ or just ‘good teaching’. The key to questioning what you believe is having an open heart for the answer. This is how you get to the ‘Why’!

So, as I sat in silence asking whether I am being a good parent or whether I am brainwashing my child, God revealed my journey to me. It wasn’t long before I knew with assurance that I am not brainwashing Andrew – I am giving him the ‘what’. It is up to him to find the ‘why’.

Do you know what you believe? More importantly, do you know why you believe it?

2010-03-24T19:56:00.000-07:00

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old,

he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

George and I got a family bible as a wedding gift, which happens to be one of my favorite gifts. Growing up in the Bible Belt, I thought everyone had a family bible sitting on the living room table. I have come to find out that is not the case. When I moved into this house, we had only the TV stand to actually call a 'table' and it wasn't an appropriate place for a bible. So, I am sad to report that until recently it has been tucked away nicely in the top of the closet in the guest bedroom. Thankfully, this weekend our long awaited formal living room furniture arrived and out came the family bible to take its rightful place. Even better is the fact that I quickly found a use for it... we are actually reading it as a family!

We started 'Resurrection Eggs' with Andrew this week. By we, I mean 'I' since George is traveling and I am flying solo with the kid this week. I have been anxiously awaiting doing this with Andrew since I heard of them last year. I went to get them a week before Easter and they were all sold out, this year I got them early and have been waiting. I decided that I would do 1 egg a night for the 12 days leading up to Easter finishing the night before. I think trying to cram all 12 eggs into one day would be too much for Andrew. Having completed 2 nights, I realize it would be too much for me!

Have you heard of 'Resurrection Eggs'? Fascinating concept, I think. Twelve plastic eggs, each filled with something representative of one aspect of the Easter story. There is an accompanying book that give a scripture the egg is in reference to and a short explanation. Egg #12 is a golden egg and is empty representing, of course, the empty tomb! I am in love with these eggs, I seriously am.

Clearly stated on the box are the words 'For ages 3 & up.'... puh-leeze! Andrew loves story time and this would be a variation of story time, right? I know he is only 22 months, but I have a plan. We can handle one egg a night for twelve nights; we're a model family, after all. Here is how it all went down...

We went to the living room (as a side note, how many people find it odd that we actually sat in the living room - the one room you were never allowed in as a child because it would get messed up and.... the horror... company would foot prints on the freshly vacuumed carpet!). Again, we went into the living room and I opened the booklet and opened the bible to the scripture for egg #1. All the while, Richard is running around barking loudly, jumping on me, jumping on Andrew, but knowing his life was in danger if he jumped on the new furniture! Mind you, Andrew is neither interested in the booklet, the bible or the dog. No, he is interested in this...

I was seriously trying not get frustrated and remember that he is not even 2 years old yet. The box did tell me 'ages 3 & up' after all! I read the scripture, fully aware that I was reading to myself. Thinking back on it, I wonder why I took the time to convert 'Ass' to 'Donkey' while reading since he was oblivious to the Word of God anyway! Thankfully, they only give you 2-3 verses to read and then you can open your egg to see what has been hidden inside. What was inside the blue egg?

A Donkey... of course! And that one blue egg and enclosed donkey was all that Andrew was concerned with. He couldn't care less about the remaining 11 eggs, just the one blue egg. It was as if he knew we were on 'Day 1' and day 1 was the blue egg. Oh, he is a good little student; I have raised him right! Perhaps I got ahead of myself since at some point I think he threw the donkey and the egg from one side of the room to the other.

Finally (thankfully), the end of our 'lesson' was drawing near. I pulled Andrew close and told him we were going to say a prayer. It only seems appropriate that we should end in a prayer, right?Why did I put myself through this? Well, I had good intentions but I was so flustered at that point that I actually found myself thanking the Lord for donkey's and thanked Jesus for his son... Jesus. I had to laugh... I am so glad that God knows our hearts, aren't you?

You may be thinking that Day 1 wound up being the last day, but it wasn't. We gathered around the pink egg last night which contained silver coins and we talked about how Judas betrayed Jesus for 30 silver coins. Again, Andrew only cared about that pink egg and its contents. We played with the egg for several minutes and then we ended in prayer which went somewhat better... somewhat!

I don't expect Andrew to come out of this in 2 weeks knowing the Easter story. But he is smart and he picks things up very quickly. He knows you aren't supposed to eat before you say a blessing, you aren't supposed to go to bed without saying a prayer and when you ask him where Jesus is, he points to the sky and his heart. He doesn't understand the why of everything right now, but one day, I pray he will. For now, I am simply preparing the field for rain.

Who Dat? Dat's ME!!!!!

2010-02-09T09:41:00.000-08:00

This past weekend was the biggest sporting event of the year – I’ll give you one guess as to what it was! Correct, the Super Bowl! Did you watch it? We were able to catch the first half and the fourth quarter (all that really matters). We had to leave the party we were at during half time to get Andrew home and in bed on time. We are on a strict schedule these days and I am so happy and proud of it that I would walk home from any party, anywhere just to keep him on said schedule.

This Super Bowl has really been heavily promoted since the New Orleans Saints have never even made an appearance at the Super Bowl much less win one. In the weeks leading up to the event, things were pretty lively in my neck of the woods. Living in Houston, not far from Louisiana, there are many Saints fans. People who aren’t die-hard fans tended to lean that direction given the choice. It was a huge deal, and in the end, the Saints pulled off a victory. Don’t we all love a Cinderella story?

Well, all the talk and excitement leading up to and immediately following the game kept me rather excited too. Not because I am a huge Saints for or even a Super Bowl fan – my heart will always be in college football. No, my excitement was due in part to what the Saints brought with them… endless variations of ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’. It’s been stuck in my head for weeks!!

I am sure you heard this classic hymn at some point over the last 2 weeks. I got up early one day last week to join the 5:15 a.m. spin class at the YMCA. I will tell you right now, I am not a pretty sight at that time in the morning. The instructor hopped on her bike and announced she had a surprise for us. As soon as the zydeco started playing, I knew what was coming. There it was at 5:15 on a weekday morning when all the people who had brains were still sleeping and I was singing ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’ with a bunch of other crazy folks.

I sang that song until I nearly cried… for several reasons, not the least of which because that little seat and my big seat no longer match up correctly! It was such a happy, fun moment though because we all knew the song (and I am sure at least half of the folks thought it was written specifically for the New Orleans Saints); we sang loud and in unison. Right smack dab in the middle of the sang a chant bursts out – this was a verse I wasn’t familiar with – this piece was written specifically for the Saint’s. It goes like so “Who dat say they gonna beat dem Saint’s? Who Dat? Who Dat?” (Cajun accent used here) – very catchy. I caught on and kept the pace with the rest of the group for the remainder of the song.

I consider myself very blessed for many reasons, but none more than this… When the Saints go marching in, I not only want to be in that number, but I WILL be in that number. I settled that issue a long time ago, as did many of you. I live with many regrets in my life and long for ‘do-over’s’, but because of the blood of Christ, I am a saint, part of a royal priesthood and on that day, I will go marching in. Isn’t that the greatest thing you have heard in a very long time?

George and I have had a lot of fun with this song in the last week. We have danced all over our house singing both the traditional hymn and the ‘Who Dat’ addition. We feel the need to include the ‘Who Dat’ portion to our dance routine because it’s really a lot of fun and frankly, in the end, the Saints do indeed win! It’s been great having this song stuck in my head because it has been a constant reminder of who I am in Christ. The world is a constant reminder of who I am in flesh and of past mistakes, but ultimately I am a child of God, marching upward to Zion.

What about you? Is this just a catchy song that you know but have no clue as to what it really means? Do you assume you are a Saint because you were raised in America and we are a (supposed) Christian nation? Will you be marching in with the other Saints on that day or are you just not sure? Some would tell you that there is no real way to know, you live life as a good person and hope for the best. I am telling you that simply isn’t true, but the free gift of Jesus is too simple to pass up. The knowing and peace that comes from accepting that gift is better than any blessing you have on this earth, or will ever have – I promise you that. If you aren’t certain of your marching orders, then follow the link below for the simple steps to being a ‘Saint’… and SING!

http://www.chick.com/information/general/salvation.asp

Habakkuk Revisited

2009-10-07T09:13:00.000-07:00

My last entry was on 9/11 and, as is the usual start to each entry, I began with a verse I found appropriate. The verse I choose for that day was Habakkuk 3:16-19 and it seemed to capture the reality of September 11 accurately. Oddly enough, I have not been able to escape those verses since that post. I am literally meditating on them daily and I so I feel the need to stop and re-examine them once more. I will post them again, this time beginning in verse 17.

Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vine; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the LORD! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation. The Sovereign LORD is my strength! He will make me as surefooted as a deer and bring me safely over the mountains.

What thoughts did you have as you read and finished the scripture? I was transported back to several times in my life when my soul cried these very words even though I wasn’t aware of the scripture. I believe that this is the place that the Lord needs to take you to so that he can begin to use you for the purpose you were created. I heard a pastor say once ‘In order for the Lord to use you greatly, he must first break you greatly’. I believe that if you are a child of God, He will break you and if you withstand the hurt, your soul will cry the words of Habakkuk.

I do not know of one person that wishes pain, fear or turmoil on themselves. I also do not know of one person who has not experienced it at some point. Hard times are a fact a life; there is nothing we can do to avoid it if we live long enough. The ‘experience’ has to be so bad that there seems to be no earthly escape to cry the words of Habakkuk and mean them with all your heart.

Do you know why Habakkuk could rejoice in the Lord? Do you have any clue why he was joyful and found strength in the Lord? He knew Peace. How many times have we prayed that God would give someone the peace that passes all understanding? We sometimes throw that around very nonchalantly without realizing the power in its reality.

I have been at the bottom, have you? Who was there? Sure, there was someone there physically – your parents, children, friends or a spouse, but who was there to pick you up? None of those people, not if you were at the bottom. There is only one person who is there to pick you up and you know he is there because of Peace. Peace lifts your eyes first then your head. Peace brings you to your knees and then your feet. Peace gives you strength lift your hands and then Peace slowly but surely pulls you up.

Your situation may be the same, but Peace has given you a new set of glasses to see through. It’s a hard fight to get those glasses, but what a view. You turn around and look where you were and you never want to go there again, but you wouldn’t change it if you could. This is the sweet spot. You can’t imagine it until God has brought you here, but He will bring you. He will make you surefooted and you will rejoice in Him.

I have been through the valley and I have stood on the mountain. If I live long enough, I will experience both again. I like the mountain much, much more than the valley. It is the valley, however, that has given me strength. It is the valley that has prepared me for my purpose. Do I know what my purpose is? No. Maybe I will find out tomorrow, maybe not. Perhaps I will just live it and never realize it. Regardless, I don’t want to miss it. I have been and am being prepared for it, so are you. Life is good, but life is hard. I will rejoice in the Lord because he is sovereign and is my strength.

2009-09-11T09:31:00.000-07:00

I trembled inside when I heard all this; my lips quivered with fear. My legs gave way beneath me, and I shook in terror. I will wait quietly for the coming day when disaster will strike the people who invade us. Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vine; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the LORD! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation. The Sovereign LORD is my strength! He will make me as surefooted as a deer and bring me safely over the mountains. Habakkuk 3:16-19

Today is September 11 and at some point today we will be forced to remember the events that took place 8 years ago. I say you will be forced, maybe that only applies to me. You see, those events are sad and I don’t do sad. I ignore sad at all cost. I try very hard to live by the ‘turn-that-frown-upside-down’ mentality. I will have to be forced to think about that tragic day. I suppose since I am writing about it now, this is the forceful moment.

September 11th was the JFK assignation of my generation. We all remember where we were and what we were doing that morning. I was living in VA at the time and was at the doctor’s office having my knee x-rayed; tendonitis. Ty was visiting that week and we had tickets to the Aerosmith concert in VA Beach on the 12th. It was the second time we had planned to see Aerosmith – the first time the concert was canceled so that Steven Tyler could have knee surgery.

I was lying there on the table with that heavy xray vest on my chest when the technician walked in and said the 2nd tower had been hit. I already knew the first tower was hit and when news came of the second, I couldn’t wrap my mind around what had happened. I said ‘What is going on, can’t those pilots see the towers?’ I assumed the planes were small crop duster planes carrying 2-3 passengers total. I never imagined the reality of it all.

I left the doctor’s office and headed to work listening to the coverage all the way. I soon realized, like the rest of America, that this was a serious threat to our nation. We were under attack, and never was I so glad to work in a one story building. We had a small TV in the front of the office that everyone crowded around to watch the coverage and about 30 minutes in, I knew I couldn’t take anymore. Eight years later, I still cannot watch the coverage. It took months to get the images out of my head of those people jump out of the window 100+ stories in the air.
News soon came that all sporting events, concerts and flight were canceled. I wasn’t headed to a sporting event, but I was headed to a concert and Ty was scheduled to fly home at the end of the week. I called Ty to tell him the concert was canceled and I was very upset about this. I needed normalcy and fun. I needed to go to a concert where there weren’t images of planes blowing up and people dying by the thousands. I needed an escape, without it my frown couldn’t be turned upside down.

By Friday of that week, the nation was slowly moving forward. Bush Gardens opened up and Ty and I enjoyed a day of roller coasters and funnel cakes. We observed a moment of silence at noon and that was about all I could muster. The next day, Ty rented a car and headed back to Florida. Life moved on.

We have come a long way since that day. Former President Bush went from being beloved to being hated. We went from being united to being divided. We are safe yet feel very vulnerable knowing that another attack is always one breath away. We know it could very well be us or our loved ones who suffer next time. We cling to our God, yet we ask why?

We will never know the answer to why God allows such tragedy in our lives, especially mass tragedy like 9/11. We know God allows things for a reason, and it is that promise and many others we find in His word that help us move forward with peace. I especially have to immerse myself in these promises, otherwise I find myself living bound by fear, unable to participate in the joys of life. You may find yourself living the same way.

Where does this leave me today? I have learned to remind myself as often as needed of the reality of knowing Jesus. Regardless of what happens in my life, this is only temporary. I will spend eternity with Jesus. If God takes away everything & everyone I know and love; I still have Jesus. If I am left with no choice but to throw myself from the 100th floor of a building, I can assure you that Jesus will be the last person I call out to on my way down… and it is He that will catch me at the bottom.

I have never watched the footage of 9/11 since that day. I have never again tried to see Aerosmith in concert. I have never again dreamed of working in a high rise building. I have never again taken a flight without thinking of what may happen. I didn’t lose anyone on that day, but like you and every other American out there, I lost a piece of innocence. We are forever changed and regardless of the issues in our nation today, I am very proud to be an American and pray God’s blessings on us daily.

2009-08-07T14:25:00.000-07:00

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8-9

So today is a rough day for me. I really thought today was going to be a great day since I was able to get into a pair of 6 size pants and a shirt I haven’t been able to get on since Andrew was 4 months enutero. This led to an anxiety free morning, sweet kisses from Andrew as I left him at school, the perfect latte to be followed by a little piece of heaven, aka a Vanilla Bean Scone.

I arrived at work to find my boss packing up his office. Much to the surprise of everyone, he was let go this morning and had only minutes to leave the building. I am sure it wasn’t that dramatic, since his dismissal had nothing to do with anything unethical, but it seemed that dramatic. I never got the chance to say anything, not a word, his light was just off and he was gone. And I am sad.

I spent about an hour trying to keep a straight face. I was in and out of meetings, sitting with the director and then with my interim manger and others in my team. All the while I was so angry about this, just sad... and angry. Then I heard a still, small voice reminding me that my boss and I serve the same God. Here we go, yet another teachable moment.

My boss was totally taken by surprise this morning, as was I, but the Lord wasn’t. The Lord knew the day He gave him this job that one day He would take it away. Doesn’t that seem so unfair? Well, it is… if you are of the flesh. God doesn’t work in realm of fair or common sense. God works in the realm of perfection – we just haven’t a clue sometimes.

The last 3 months on my previous job were a nightmare. Then I got laid off. Then I spent 3 months unemployed. Then I spent 6 months doing clerical work and fetching coffee for people. Then God said “Here, I hope you like this gift”; what a blessing this job is! Just to type it makes me smile.

God is so faithful. He loves us and knows what is best for us. Sometimes He puts us in difficult spots, but only because that’s what it takes to obtain His perfection. I may never understand why my boss is no longer here, but I know it was for the best. It was for his best and I praise the One who holds us both in His hand.

2009-07-20T13:34:00.000-07:00

Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Black and yellow, red and white
They're all precious in His sight
Jesus loves the little children of the world

Don’t you love this song?! Did your mama sing this to you when you were little or did you sing it at church? I sing this to Andrew every night while rocking him to sleep. The words are so familiar to me since I, like many of you, grew up singing it. Not until I started singing it to my baby, however did the song take on a new meaning.

It is not difficult for me to see the truth in these words when I look at Andrew. He is sweet, with chubby little cheeks. He has 8 little gappy teeth standing like good little soldiers through his baby grin. His new tactic for making love him is how he interacts with our dog, Richard. Andrew loves Richard as much as any boy could love his dog. The mere sight of that doggie makes his cackle out loud. I catch him from time to time lying with his head on Richard’s bed, face to face with our canine love just carrying on the most interesting of conversations. Well, Andrew thinks it’s interesting anyway. So, who couldn’t love a child like that?

When I sing this song, however, it is not Andrew’s face that I see. I see the faces of children who I have never met, have never seen. I see children in India, China, Uganda and other places whose countries name I could never spell. I see juveniles who have been given up on and adults who are in prison. I see children, people who are not all that loveable and then I smile.

Why do I smile? I smile because it is this simple little children’s song that reminds me how great a love the father has lavished upon us. I smile because God has once again reminded me that I am called to love the unlovely. I smile because I am worthy, and so are you because we are loved.

I have a coworker who I am very fond of. I actually have several coworkers that I am very fond of and pray for daily. You see, I am surrounded by Muslims at my office. They are nice, funny, and considerate; a complete 180˚ from what we have grown to fear. This one particular coworker has just become a first time father. His wife miscarried last year and this pregnancy was no cake walk. He was ecstatic the day his daughter arrived, safely.

When I read the birth announcement I had such mixed emotions. It was much like a Christians would be, except Allah was used a lot rather than God or Lord. I was thankful that she arrived safe, but saddened that she would not be raised to know Jesus. Isn’t that just like we humans? To think that the only way a child can grow up to know the Lord is to be born into a Christian home!?

Read the words to that song again. Smile & rejoice! There is hope in those 5 little lines. That baby was born for a purpose. Jesus loves her and has a purpose for her just as he has a purpose for Andrew and for you and me. It is up to her to seek out her purpose and up to Andrew to seek out his purpose. It is up to me to continue to pray that they will do just that as I continue to seek my purpose.

Do you write people off as a lost cause because of what they look like or where they come from? What a tragedy. Jesus loves the little children. Isn’t it funny how sometimes God uses the most minor of things, such as a children’s song to remind us of who He is.

2009-06-29T08:19:00.000-07:00

And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her. Luke 10:41-42

So, it has been a while since my last entry and for that I am sorry. There are a couple of reasons as to why I have been absent for over a month. First, I have been swamped at worked. I am talking stress overload, but I am not complaining since I have long waited for the opportunity to use my programming abilities at this level. The other and most important reason for this is far more significant.

This blog is just a simple blog for many people and for many others it is much more. For me, this blog is comfort, reassurance, therapy and accountability. I started doing this because I felt led to for reasons unknown to me then and now. I have been transparent my entire life and only now does it seem right to let people into the most personal parts of mind and thoughts. So, why is it that all of a sudden I have writers block? It can’t be because I am busy; even at my busiest I can write an entry in under 15 minutes. It’s because my words are not my words and my thoughts are not my thoughts.

Did I mention that I have been super busy as of late? Have you noticed that if one area of your life is chaotic it affects all other areas of your life? I have been so rushed at work that when I get home my brain will not shut off. Instead of cooking and doing laundry, I find myself struggling to get a frozen pizza in the oven let alone sort the whites from the darks. The alarm goes off in the morning and I am like a jet: gym, shower, dressed, Andrew up & dressed, dog walked, grab the laptop, throw Andrew out at school, get coffee and begin the work day. That’s been my schedule for a few weeks now. Do you notice anything missing in there? If not, it may be missing from your own life as well. I have been so busy getting everything done that I pushed my quiet time with the Lord back, so far back He fell out of my day. That wasn’t the intention, but it rarely is, isn’t it? Very innocent and unintentional, but if not caught and corrected it will have major ramifications on my life and yours.

This blog is God inspired, I know that. I know that when I lose connection with The Source, I lose the ability to write what he would have me write. I am not a writer, but as long as God places things on my heart, I will write them. I am thankful for these times of revelation when God reiterates who He is and where He is supposed to be in my life. When I am frustrated and wondering why I can’t put into words what is on my heart and I get the gentle reminder that my priorities are out of whack.

God does not have to use me in any way whatsoever, nor does he have to use you. He wants to use us, he has a plan for us, but if we don’t have time for him, he will find someone else to use. I have no idea what the Lord has planned for me, but I don’t want to miss it because my job was so busy or the laundry was calling. Are you too busy? Is God using you the way He intended to? Let’s choose the good part!

2009-05-13T08:57:00.000-07:00

Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart for my holy purpose. I appointed you to be a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah 1:5

My how time flies! Today is a very special day in our house, in our world… Andrew is 1 year old today. One glorious, awe filled, tiring, ever changing year ago today, our lives took and extreme turn – to the right.

There are so many things I would not recommend you do in life. For example, I would not recommend you ride your bike with no hands and attempt to roll over a big rock at the same time. That can leave a horrible scar on your face. I would not recommend picking up a piece of ash from a smoldering fire just because the gray glow is so pretty… ouch! I would also not recommend being 3 months pregnant and 3 weeks married. No, there is a reason that God has an order for things in life as George and I quickly found out.

The morning of May 13, 2008 started out like no other morning of my life. I lay awake all night trying to imagine what life would be like in the next few days as we became a family of three. How wonderful it would be to finally be thin again (because I was sure that would happen within a few days). How much fun it would be to take Andrew places and show him off. Then I started to panic at the reality of this situation. George and I would never be able to go to the movies again. We could never just fly by the seat of out pants. Everywhere we go, we have to remember to take this kid. How am I going to remember to take him when I am so prone to forgetting my keys!? I had the preverbal breakdown and cried “I’ve changed my mind!”… to late of course.

We got to the hospital at 5:00 in the a.m. and they checked me out and got me all set up. Now, I should have known the day was going to be rough when the initial exam hurt worse than anything I had ever experienced. Come to find out, I had a UTI that had gone undetected and now could not be treated until after birth. Fantastic! They came in around 10:00 to break my water with what looked suspiciously like a crochet needle… hook… dagger. Everyone told me this part was a piece of cake. Well, just FYI, I have finally found a cake I could do without. As the good Lord above as my witness, I got the epidural as a means of escaping the pain caused by that UTI.

The day dragged on and I was not dilating at all. So, around 5:00 Dr Tal came in and spoke with me about having a c-section. Mama near ‘bout fainted! He said I could labor for another 10 hours, but the c-section was going to be the likely outcome. It was a no brainer for me. So, I got ready for surgery and George & mama got ready too. I remember lying on the operating table, looking at the clock and it was 5:45 pm and I asked ‘How long will it take to get him out’? I was astounded when Dr Tal said ‘Less than 15 minutes’. I would see my baby face to face in less than 15 minutes… I cried. I sobbed!

I have never told anyone why I was crying. It wasn’t they typical tears that are cried on the day you give birth. I cried because I was minutes away from meeting the baby I had prayed to miscarry. I couldn’t be the one to get pregnant before I was married! I couldn’t disappoint everyone with such news. I prayed to miscarry before the whole world found out my hypocrisy. This is very hard to admit, hard to type the words knowing that some will read this and remember their own miscarriage. There are many who long for a baby and cannot get pregnant. There are many who have lost children before or after birth. And then there is me. Hard to admit those feelings, but they were real.

It is important for me to say that I believe God always answers our prayers! Might I also say that I will forever be thankful that He loves us enough to sometimes answer with a no! I gave birth just like any other first time mother… unaware of what was about to take place. Let’s face it, for the first month I wasn’t even sure I liked him. It took mama to point out that the feeling would soon pass. It did and it has been a ride ever since.

I have been pooped on, peed on and thrown up on. I still can’t wear most of my pre-pregnancy clothes and have stretch marks that will never go away. I have not eaten a hot meal in one full year, have not sleep a full night nor gotten through a full hour of TV. Am I complaining? No, I am not (although I have my moments). I wouldn't trade any of this for anything I had before.

I have looked into the eyes of my flesh & blood. I have heard him laugh and laughed with him. I have heard him cry and cried with him. I have jumped up and down in the excitement of a first tooth. Called family with pride when he decided he could hold his own bottle. And yesterday, wanted to take out a full page ad in the Houston Chronicle announcing he blew kisses as we left school.

Andrew was fearfully & wonderfully made, in the image of God, for a divine purpose. There is no one on this earth like him. He makes me appreciate my parents, family, husband and sleep so much more than I ever did. He makes my heart smile just thinking of him and simplicity is so much more appealing. He makes things good…

So, here we are, raising a baby in the honeymoon phase of our marriage. It’s difficult, tiring and downright overwhelming at times. I wouldn’t recommend starting out your marriage by decorating a nursery, it’s puts you into fast forward long before you need to be in fast forward. I suppose, however that being a parent at any stage is difficult, tiring and overwhelming. Would I do things different? Well, does it really matter? My sweet gift from God is 1 today, and to me, today, nothing else matters.

2009-05-08T11:27:00.001-07:00

Her children rise up, and call her blessed! Proverbs 31:28

This weekend is Mothers Day… and if you haven’t already done so, you need to get a gift or some form of acknowledgement for your mother as well as the other women who have had a profound impact on your life. I have been celebrating Mother’s Day for… hmm, 31 years now, granted some of that time was without knowing. It is only this year though that it makes sense to me. This year I became a mother and now I get it. I get why ‘Mamas’ are to be celebrated.

My mom does not see her value at all. She would tell you that she isn’t pretty, has too many wrinkles, fuzzy hair, a bummed up foot and thanks to some local jealousy, she would also tell you that she is perceived to not be nice. None of this is true of course (well, her foot does need some work), but this is how she perceives herself. Today, in the spirit of Mother’s Day, I want to tell you how I perceive her.

When I was in 1st or 2nd grade, I had a classmate that was very poor. I didn’t realize that she was poor at the time, but I knew she was different, everyone did… and everyone made fun of her; I made fun of her. Mama found out about this and I honestly can’t remember if I got a spanking or not, but I do remember being told that I had to apologize to her the next day. The very next day, I did just as I was told and I apologized to the girl. I will never, ever forget the look on her face as she thanked me for my apology and confirmed that my teasing had hurt her feelings. I am so thankful that I was made to apologize, through that, mama taught me to be kind to people and to say “I’m Sorry” when I am wrong.

The summer before I went into 8th grade I found myself with no friends. The friends I had previously proved to be bad influences and had to be turned loose. So, as the first day of school approached my fears increased, after all, you cannot start school with no one to eat lunch with. So, mama and I prayed every night that God would send me a friend… And he did. He actually renewed my friendship with Sandy who was my best friend from the time we were 3 years old. We are great friends to this very day because God joined us as such. I look back at those few months and see mama as the person who not only taught me to pray, but to know that God hears those prayers.

When I was in High School mama made me get a job if I wanted to go Europe (Sandy went too) because I would have to pay for it. This meant sacrificing a car for a year, but it was worth it. I flipped burgers at McDonalds after school everyday and then had to be there at 4:45 every Saturday morning. Mama would stand at the door as left for work on those mornings in her nightgown until she could no longer see my taillights (I was of course driving her car) and then she would call at 5:00 to make sure I got there safely. I don’t think she ever did go back to sleep. Europe is as vivid in my mind today as it was in person 13 years ago. Mama is the person who taught me that sacrifice and hard work make the reward so much sweeter and also that teaching your child this lesson sometimes means you have to sacrifice too.

Mama didn’t work on Mondays and if I close my eyes today I can still smell the crisp, spring air coming through the open windows of the freshly cleaned house when I got home from school. Monday’s were my favorite day! Ty & daddy were working and so mama and I would always go to Burger King and get chicken tenders with ranch dressing and a coke. Then we would go see Grandma at work and spend some time with her. What was a typical Monday then (which packed on nearly 15 pounds) are precious memories now. Every child should have sweet, innocent times with their parents and grandparents. Those days passed too quickly, but Mama taught me to keep a clean house, cherish simplicity and, most importantly, to love Grandma. And I do… all three.

I soon graduated from High School, then college and quickly (seems quick now) I found myself in Virginia as a naive career girl. I thought I was a smart career woman, but I soon found out otherwise. My nice, classy coworkers were neither nice nor classy… in fact they were down right mean. My boss wasn’t much better and I found myself crying at night more often than not. I called mama and recounted numerous stories just sure I would finally have someone on my side. Not so… she would always point out what I did wrong in the situation and encourage me to either apologize or correct my behavior. She saw the mistreatment, but she knew that neither of us could force the actions of others and that I was called to be a separate people. As I worked on me – my work ethic and attitude, the situation remained the same, but I was able to weather the storm. Today, I am a much better employee and confident in my skills. Mama has always taught me know when the ball isn’t in my court and to do my job as unto the Lord.

Mama taught me to be a lady. She taught me the basics like wearing a slip when you wear a dress and also to wear a dress. She taught me to sit up straight (George is still trying to drive this point home), not to wear white before Easter, send ‘Thank You’ notes and proper manners when addressing your elders and to love my mother in law.. She taught me far more than I could ever put into words.

I must mention, however that she is not the only woman who has had great influence on my life. I could go on and on about various ladies who have played a role in me becoming who I am today. For example, two of the greatest things that I have ever learned were taught to me by Aunt Sue. First, she taught me how to chew with my mouth shut. I remember sitting at the table eating and her telling me to close mouth. I never said a word, but I remember thinking ‘if I close my mouth I will suffocate!’… The second, and most important thing I learned from her, is that if anything ever, God Forbid, were to happen to mama, she would be there, filling in the void to the best of her ability and loving us unconditionally. Every child should have a mama, but what a blessing to also have an Aunt Sue!

So, while my mom may see nothing more than wrinkles and fuzzy hair when she looks in the mirror, I see the woman I hope to become. I pray Andrew gets all the blessings that I have gotten and more. Happy Mothers Day Mama and to all the women who have blessed me for so long.

2009-04-24T07:12:00.000-07:00

All marriages are happy. It's the living together afterward that causes all the trouble. ~Raymond Hull

Ok, have you ever heard two people tell the exact same story and stood in amazement at how different the two versions are? Well, such is the case of a husband and wife I know… we’ll call them Gibby & Leorge. Oh, what the heck… it’s really me & George. Everyday I have a story about him and as I am telling it to whomever (typically mama) I am thinking ‘How would he be telling his side’. No doubt he would leave out some very important details and paint me in a bad light… not at all like the story should be told.

Let me tell you today’s story… come, sit at my feet, listen and use your imagination to paint the pictures. First, I need to tell you how our mornings are supposed to work. I get up at 4:45 and am out the door at 4:57 for my morning workout which ends at exactly 6:00 putting me home by 6:10. I then come in and do one of two things. I get in the shower while George sleeps in or if he is already in the shower I pack the diaper bag, get the iron turned on and get my clothes ready to be ironed. I cannot iron until Andrew gets up since the sound of the ironing board unfolding is so shrill it wakes him up.

Regardless of either of these two paths, I have my morning quiet time while George is in the shower. I have 20-25 minutes totally uninterrupted and I enjoy it. No, it’s not an hour and half, but I do try to make the most of that time. I have prayed and asked God to give me a time that was unrushed and uninterrupted for quality time with Him, and this is the time he has given me. I sit in our study (we called it an office until Aunt Sue very politely said ‘Baby it’s called a study’) in 1 of our nice new recliners (they are somewhere between retro & ghetto and I love them). Lamp on and blinds open I open the devotional and read the passage from the bible… as I read I hear the birds chirp and the sun is rising. It has become essential for my morning and I begin my prayer time the same way ‘Thank you Lord for this time with you…’ I am so thankful for those 20-25 minutes.

This sets up the remainder of the morning, which is rushed, but pleasant and it works for the 3 of us. And so, I got up this* morning with all good intentions that today would be no different… WRONG!

I get home at 6:11 – now you can see we are already 1 minute off schedule here and I have no doubt that this one minute totally turned everything upside down. I come in and turn on the iron and get the diaper bag ready since I could hear George in the shower. I go in and say ‘Morning Georgie’ on my way to the closet to get my pants. I walked back out of the room, pants in tow, but said nothing more to Georgie. Put the pants in the laundry room and settled in my chair. Now, something in my mind said ‘You should have told George you were going to read your bible’, but that ship had sailed. Before I go any further, I must say that while our house isn’t enormous, it isn’t small either; trips from the front to the back are a hassle.

I am 3 verses in to the scripture passage and I hear ‘Liibbbbby’… I ignore it. Six verses in and I hear ‘LLLLiiiibbyyyy’. The second ‘Libby’ was even more playful than the first and gave no hint that anything was wrong… again I ignored. At this point I thought to myself ‘He will realize that I am not in the room and am not coming and he will stop calling my name’… WRONG, he called again. I really thought at this time he was out of the shower and if he really needed me he would come find me.

So, I started my prayer time ‘Lord thank you for this time with you…’ LIBBBYYYYY! Since I was already in prayer, I just gripped my hands and through gritted teeth said ‘Oh dear Lord, if he wakes up Andrew I am going to kill him. Seriously, if he needs a towel can’t he just get it himself?!’ I continued to pray and act like I was focused and when it came time to pray for George, I did. I may have called him an idiot though, I can’t be entirely sure, after all I was only acting like I was focused. He called at least 6 times… SIX TIMES!

I finally was done with my ‘quiet’ time and headed to the bathroom for my shower. I opened the door and sweet Georgie is still in the shower. So, he asks where I have been, he has been calling for 20 minutes. I reply ‘Yes, and I would have thought you could have figured out I wasn’t coming. I need to get in the shower’. I may or may not have said ‘Get Out’. He says ‘I needed a razor and would be out if you had given it to me’… and it went on from there. I was rushing to get ready, because now I was a good 15 minutes behind schedule, Andrew woke up early and George was ready to leave early. Nothing was out for dinner, had nothing to grab for breakfast and had a zit on my chin! We have now stopped talking aloud to each other but I am sure we are really giving each other a lashing in our own minds; I sure was.

By the time I got out the door this morning George had taken the time to dress Andrew, I decided to go by Starbucks for breakfast (they have good oatmeal) and frozen pizza would have to do for dinner. Andrew looked adorable (of course) and I managed a quick picture before we left all the while giving a loving, if not forced, smile, kiss and a ‘Love You’ to George. And we were done… on time.

I laughed on the way to work as I replayed how annoying he was this morning and thought he was probably replaying how annoying I was. I am sure we have 2 different versions of how that time went. Perhaps my quiet time would have gone better if I cut it short to answer George on the second call. Perhaps it would have gone great if he had just gotten out the shower to get his own razor. This I know for sure, we both contributed to the chaos that was our morning. I also know that we are growing and by the time I was a mile down the road, he had already called. The phone call ended, as it always does, with ‘Love you babe’… this time not forced.

* 'This morning' was actually a few days ago. This morning was actually smooth, despite oversleeping!

2009-04-07T08:15:00.000-07:00

Don’t you be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. Yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10

Fear… when you think of fear, what do you think of? Being at home alone and hearing a strange sound at 3 in the morning? Maybe just hearing the theme song from Jaws strikes a little fear in your heart? Snakes, spiders or big fat rats are a major fear for most women (and men) that I know. This type of fear causes momentary panic that passes once you realize that strange sounds was just the ice maker filling up with water, the song stops playing or you find relief in the fact that those snakes are behind glass at the zoo.

What about the fear that causes the joy to be sucked right out of your life and leaves you paralyzed day in and day out? This is something that I know a lot about. You may be shocked to know that fear causes me to cry myself to sleep many nights. No one really knows about this except me and the Almighty Himself – not even George who is sleeping mere inches from my sobbing head. I have learned to sob quietly.

I remember way back when I was a freshman in college promising myself that I would not ever let fear control my life. I did not tell myself this in an effort to comfort my current fears since at the time I didn’t realize this would be a battle for me. Rather, I knew I would graduate and move far away from my family and though it would be scary, this was what I knew I would be doing. That was easy though, the thought excited me – I don’t recall ever being scared. People told me I should be scared so I made this proclamation to them and myself. Funny, though, that that proclamation has always stayed in the forefront of my mind. I didn’t need to lean on that promise then, but I do now.

Fear really started in my mid-twenties and gets progressively worse with each passing day. I have feared everything. For a while my fear was that I would never get married & have children and then when I was old I would have no one to drive me the nursing home. Now, this is funny even as I type it, but I literally cried myself to sleep many nights over this. Growing old all alone… who wants to do that? Then I feared I had cancer because when I got out of the shower I had purple spots on my legs – cancer was the only logical conclusion. It never occurred to me that I have very fair skin and take much too hot of a shower. Then I feared that I would have heart attack at the gym, but thankfully they now have portable defibrillators located throughout the place so I just workout on the machines near those. It only makes sense right? I mean that way when I do go down they don’t have to move the machine that far to revive me!

This has all been easy enough to deal with, but now I have Andrew. I am now truly living for something, for someone and I want to live a very long time. And I want him to live even longer. Now my fears are very debilitating. Cancer… I could get cancer and not be able to raise my baby. Car accident… who’s to say it won’t be me in that fiery crash today? My biggest fear is that something will happen to Andrew. I fear every single day of my life that I will leave him in the car all day while I am work. That happens all the time. I fear that something will happen to him because of something I did. I am very careful about any news story I hear or read. If it happened to a child or a young mother, I can’t listen to it. It cripples me… literally. Everyday, all throughout the day, I battle fear.

I know there are many who would say that fear has no place in the life of a Christian, and I somewhat agree. But my fear and anxiety, well that’s just the thorn in my flesh. God uses it to draw me close to him. You see, my fears are about things that no one on this earth can prevent and that God himself may choose not to prevent. That is the reality of life. The good news is that I have the reality of Jesus… the freedom from fear. That freedom doesn’t mean that fear is no longer a part of my life – it will always be a part of my life.

When I cry myself to sleep at night, I do so while pouring out my fears before the Lord. Lord, I don’t want to get cancer and die until Andrew is grown. Lord, please let me live long enough to raise him to know you. Please Lord give me the wisdom to keep him safe at all times. Lord, I am scared. Every single time the same thing happens. Peace… He gives me peace & rest. He calms my fears. Never once does he say “You won’t die young”, “there won’t be an accident” or “Andrew will always be safe”. No, there is just peace that God is sovereign and in control. And every time I find myself in momentary awe and worship of the one who created me and has allowed me to fear. And that is what it is all about… the end result of our struggles should always be worship.

Fear is the thorn in my flesh and it keeps me continually at the feet of Jesus. I may be wrong, but I think it will always be there… keeping me where I need to be. I now realize that the promise I made myself back in college was not ‘Libby Inspired’, but rather ‘God Inspired’. He knew then what I would need now and he gave me something to cling to. What is your thorn? Are you praying that God will remove it? He may not. Your thorn may be the one thing that brings him the most worship and through worship, freedom is found.

2009-03-19T14:56:00.000-07:00

Therefore, humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, so that at the proper time he may exalt you.1 Peter 5:6

So, I am sitting here in the LA airport trying desperately to get home to Houston. My flight was scheduled at 5:00 this afternoon, but I was given permission to try and fly standby since the company messed up by booking me so late. So, I got to the airport at 10:00 this morning and have not made any flight yet. It is now 3:00 and am guaranteed the next flight since that was my original flight.
Now, this may seem like no big deal to you, but I cannot stop crying. I am tired since my days this week started at 5:00 am and I wasn't back to the hotel until 10:00 pm each night. When I left Houston on Monday, I left baby Andrew with fever and an ear infection. Aunt Sue flew into Houston today for the weekend and is now at the house waiting for me and it will be another 8 hours before I get there. My name got dropped from the standby list and therefore I lost my shot at the 2:25 flight. It was at this point I broke down and sobbed like a baby.
I did meet a nice gentleman that works for the airline and he got me into the presidents club. I have enjoyed leather seats, Internet & free coffee and drinks. But I really just want to kiss my baby and he is in Houston.
So, I decided to fiddle around on the internet and I found the Newsboys new song on YouTube - you can listen here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdQje_gJ0ko . In the Hands of God... am in the hands of God even sitting in the airport. I don't know why he want me on the 5:00 flight, but he does. I am not happy about it, but I fly in the hands of God. I am crying and tired, but I love Him and I trust him. I think he wants me to go have a very nice meal in the airport and charge it to the company, I think Jesus would like that a lot.
Trusting the Lord in what seems trivial and irritating is just what He wants us to do. Why, Lord, could I not fly out at 11:30 this morning? I don't have the answer for that, but I do know that I am in the hands of God.

Here are the lyrics for those of you who can't get on you tube:

We have raised our hopes and our cities high
We have followed fragile dreams
But only One could take the measure of our goals
And we've stumbled over the trials of life
And we've wrestled the unseen
But only One can calm the storm inside our souls

In the hands of God we will fall
Rest for the restless, and the weary
Hope for the sinner
In the hands of God we stand tall
Hands that are mighty to deliver
Giving us freedom
When our strength gave way to the weight of guilt
'Til we strained for every breath
Only One could lift our shame and make us well
And when all is finished and we face
The fearsome power of death
Only One has overcome the gates of hell
You're amazing You're amazing, You are
And we praise You, Lord For what Your hands have done

2009-02-11T10:18:00.000-08:00

I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine. Song of Solomon 6:3

Mama never was one for bedtime stories, those are memories I do not have. I do, however, have one story that she has told me over and over and it is my favorite story. It is the story of how she and daddy met, married and fell in love… in that order. It is an amazing story of God’s grace, mercy and wisdom. It is also a great story of perseverance and obedience on my parent’s part. I always loved telling their story, because it was so unbelievable that is almost a fairytale. I have told this story a million times, never once thinking that I would have one just as great to tell one day.

I remember the first time George & I had dinner together. It was after work one night and totally unplanned. He just happened to ask at the last minute if I would like to go get something to eat. We couldn’t call it a date really, but we both knew it was the start of something. I vividly remember sitting across from George and knowing that he was in love with me. He has always said he loved me from the minute he saw me, I know this is true. We had such a good time that night and so our relationship began.

I knew from that first meeting that George was the one and I never took the time to explore my feelings any further than that. It wasn’t long, 8 months to be exact, and we were engaged. Oh, the fun began. Wedding planning, engagement pictures, trying to merge everything together… it was all going as planned… until the 3rd week of September. I woke up one night with my heart racing, sweating, and very fuzzy thoughts. I couldn’t get a grip and worst of all I couldn’t ‘find’ my feelings for George. I t was 1:00 in the morning and I was in a panic. I started looking through my pictures of the two of us hoping the ‘lovey-dovey’ feeling would return. It didn’t, the panic got worse. So I did the only logical thing (keep in mind that nothing I did for the next 14 months was logical), I got in my car (1 am) and drove over to George’s. I tried to explain to him what was happening – although words and reason escaped me. He just held me very tight and told me it would be ok… he was right, although it would be months before I realized it.

So, two and half months before my wedding, we postponed. I needed time to get my thoughts straight. George was patient, as if this was all normal. We started dating again. The panic didn’t subside, but I was learning to manage it. Every time we tried to reschedule the wedding, I would ‘relapse’. George was patient. As time went on and the panic stayed, I began to realize that I couldn’t marry him and so I gave the ring back. He took it and was patient. He moved back to Houston and I stayed in Orlando. There was no possible way we could make it, it was a hopeless situation.

But you see… we serve a God who is not bound by the impossible or the hopeless. I serve a God who told me George was the one weeks before I ever met him. I serve a God who keeps his promises. There were many times over that 14 month period when God reiterated His promise to me. When I would question and say ‘This makes no sense’, He would respond ‘I do not work in the realm of common sense’. While still in the thick of the storm it occurred to me that God was doing something BIG in our lives… if He hadn’t revealed this to me, I don’t think I could have endured.

I remember one moment so clearly. I was on my way home from work, very tired and very discouraged. I was sitting at the light just off the interstate and thinking about the entire situation. It had become very normal for me to talk continually to the Lord – he was ALL I had at the time. I said, ‘Why is George still here? Any other man would have left by now. Why is he so steady in the boat?’ The answer was fast and clear ‘Because I hold the boat!’ It was all that had to be said and my logical nature kicked in. Why would God be holding him steady in a very unsteady situation, when there is no reason for him to stay? Because God had promised him to me and me to him. God had set us apart for each other before the beginning of time.

It was still several months before I got my ring back and longer still until we said our vows. But I knew the entire time that I would marry George. I knew I would spend the rest of my life with him. I knew this but I didn’t know when the emotion, the love, would return. To this day I don’t know when it did return, but it did, I suppose gradually over time. George and I should not be married and we certainly should not be happy, but we are. We get mad and we fuss & fight, but we have those tough times and clear moments with God that unite and keep us focused on Him and each other.

There is a song by Bebo Norman called ‘I Will Lift My Eyes’ that was ‘my song’ for 14 months. The first line was not a line I sang, but one I prayed daily, sometimes hourly – ‘God, my God, I cry out, your beloved needs you now’. The entire song is great, but it was that one line that brought me peace every time I said it. It’s that one word – Beloved! I am HIS beloved and HE is mine. He loves me and I love him. My love for George is great, but my love for HIM must shadow all other. Before my panic attacks he was my God since my panic attacks he has become my Beloved. I thank Him for those hard, painful times. I thank Him for every tear, every sleepless night and every hopeless thought. Without all of this I would never have really known my Beloved.

I am anxiously awaiting the day that I get to share with Andrew the story of how George and I came to be. I cannot wait to tell him of our love story. I am excited for the day when the realization hits him that our story is a story of a Great Love… the Love of My Beloved.

2009-01-29T12:26:00.000-08:00

and all, whatever ye may do in word or in work, [do] all things in the name of the Lord Jesus -- giving thanks to the God and Father, through him. Col.3:17

So, this was a verse that was often quoted in our house growing up, but more often it was demonstrated. Honestly, I never really applied it to my life until last year. This is not to say that I didn’t do a good and honest job before then, but it wasn’t until a year ago that I had to really decide to do my job as if I was doing it for the Lord.

You see last January I was still working in a temp job for an Oil & Gas consulting firm here in Houston. I had been certain that God had called me to get my teaching certification and begin teaching 4th graders. So, I got the certification ($1000 later) and took a temp job to make ends meet until God opened a door in the school system. The problem is – he never did. I didn’t get any calls on a teaching job. At my temp job I was being led to believe that they were creating an IT job for me. Daily I was asked to just be patient and they would have a job for me. Meanwhile, I did basic office tasks which included filing, data entry and stocking the snacks in the break room (sure, I ate a few along the way.)

This was all fine and dandy until the day came that I had to get coffee for 2 clients that had come in. I held back tears for the rest of the day and when I got in my car, the tears flowed. How Lord, how could you put me in a position that I am fetching coffee for others? All those people who did me wrong and treated me like I was nothing more than the office blond at previous jobs would be laughing now. This job was not below me, but it was way below my education level. In fact, my education level was above half of those I was filing for! I cried all the way home. But, this verse never left the forefront of my mind. So, I told the Lord that if this was where he wanted me, then I would do my job as if I was doing it for him.

It was about 3 weeks later that I got an email from a local headhunter that had seen my resume. He wanted to touch base with me to see if I would be interested in programming position here in Houston. I hesitated to call him – God had called me to teach. But, I felt a constant nagging, so I called 3 days later. It seems that the 99 Cent Only Stores needed a Sr. Software Developer in their Katy office. Now here is the thing – Houston is the 4th biggest city in the nation and the this job was literally down the road from my house. PICK is not a common language – and there is a PICK job right down the road from my house. This seemed to good to be true. Then I saw the word that struck fear to my core – SENIOR! I could not be a Senior developer… no way. I have never been given the chance to do that. I almost told the guy no because I was scared. But, I agreed to interview – what was the worst that could happen?

To tell you truth, there was a lot that could happen. I prayed and prayed about this interview. If I messed it up and came off as an idiot then I would feel that I WAS an idiot – it was how I had been treated my entire professional career. I just could not understand how God could send me this opportunity knowing what a disaster it would be and how I would feel. Plus – I was 7 months pregnant. There was no way they were going to hire me. The interview went well – I met with the manager, director and VP. I disclosed my pregnancy and answered the questions well enough. The job was a Senior position and I didn’t feel qualified. Two weeks later – I GOT THE JOB – and 1 week later I started as a Sr Developer (although that title is written nowhere – LOL).

What a blessing! It was a blessing and if the story ended there I would be eternally grateful for all the Lord had done, but it didn’t end there. Turns out I got paid maternity leave, I have Christian bosses and coworkers– real Christians, and get to wear jeans everyday if I so choose. I am the lead developer on the biggest project that is going right now, and I am doing a great job. I know this because both my manager and my director have called me in to let me know. I don’t say this boastfully, I say it in awe. God…Jesus… loves me so much that gave me this job – like a cupcake on a gold pletter. He wants me to know that he KNOWS I am a capable, smart and professional woman. Everyday I give this job back to the Lord. Everyday I do my job as if I am doing it for him.

I don’t know for sure, but I think God was waiting for me to be willing to fetch coffee for Him, before he would reveal his plans for me. I have no clue why I have a teaching certification; maybe I will use it one day, maybe not. Today, I really don’t care, I just want to do this job until the Lord leads me to the next. What are you doing today? Are you an engineer, an office admin or a stay at home mom? Whatever you are doing today, do it for the Lord – even if you aren’t doing what you planned. The blessings are many.

2009-01-12T12:41:00.000-08:00

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

Psalms 119:105

I, like most people, have had many bibles over the years. The one I carry now is inscribed with my married name – Libby Juarez. Aunt Maedeb got it for me as a wedding gift and I carry it with me to church every Sunday. I like that bible a lot, but it is not my bible (Sorry Aunt Maedeb). That bible is my Sunday bible and is in the same category as my Sunday clothes are – prim, proper and meant for Sunday. Then there is my bible. My bible is much like your fat pants – a comfy friend that you love to see.

I remember when I got that bible, I wanted it so bad. The church always gave the graduating seniors a new bible the Sunday before graduation. King James Version – Scofield Study Bible, burgundy. That’s been almost 12 years ago now. I have lots of notes in there, underlined passages and a few candy wrappers that haven’t been discarded. This is my ‘go to’ bible. I can navigate that thing like as good as Billy Graham! Ok, that may be a little bit of a stretch, but you get my point.

When I was in the worst of my panic attacks, I experienced such violent and graphic dreams that I could not sleep, going days without much sleep at all. I would grab my bible and sleep with it as close to me as I could get it. As crazy as it sounds, that worked. The peace of God literally flowed from those leather bound pages and gave me rest.

A few nights ago, I laid down early and reached for my bible before cutting off the light. Both bibles were sitting there, but I grabbed my bible. I instantly felt the Holy Spirit speaking to me and reminding me of all the difficulties that bible has seen me through. I really don’t know what I would do or where I would be without God’s word. I am the first to admit that I am much to cavalier when it comes to my ‘daily bible readings’ but, my new years resolution is to change that. My prayer is that the Lord will create an increasing desire for his word and for time with him. I have learned that God delivers on these types of request.

Since finding out I was pregnant with Andrew, my aim in life has been to raise Andrew in such a way that he seeks and realizes God plan for his life. I know that he was created for a purpose and God has great things for him. I truly believe that it is our – George & I – responsibility to guide him and point him in that direction. God has brought it to my attention, however, that I have neglected someone in that quest – ME!

God does have a plan and purpose for Andrew’s life, but he also has one for mine. Just because I got married and had a baby doesn't mean that he is done with me and is on to Andrew now. So, what is God’s purpose for my life now? I have no idea, but I want to find out and he wants to reveal it – in his time. Now, before you roll your eyes and think that I am a little too stuck on myself, you are in the same place! God has a plan for each and every one of us. He hasn't called us home yet which means he isn't done yet - I read that in my bible. That should be exciting to us.

I have learned the most from my parents by watching them. Maybe, just maybe the best way to raise Andrew to realize God’s plan for his life is to allow him to watch as I realize God’s plan for my life.

The Voice of God

2008-12-17T06:53:00.000-08:00

This past weekend George and I got the itch to get a new car. Not so much a car, but an SUV - anything with more space. Now for those of you reading this and shaking your head saying ' I tried to tell you that when you bought a Jetta!', all I say to you is that you make your decisions based on 1 - prayer and 2 - the information you have at the time. At the time we purchased our small Jetta, we needed a commuter car for George and gas prices were at $4 a gallon. The Jetta was the ONLY vehicle we had a peace about and that is why we got it. So put that wagging finger back in your pocket.

ANYWAY... we decided to look at the Chevy Traverse since we really like it, it's roomy and it is American made. When we got to the dealership, it was closed. We looked at the prices and doubted we could have afforded it anyway. Perhaps we can, but it wasn't in the cards for us on Saturday. Bummed, we left to go finish our Christmas shopping. We had a wonderful day laughing and strolling through the mall together. We didn't even complain about having to change Andrew's very poopy diaper (and pants) in the car twice. My child actually had to ride home in a shirt and his diaper. Redneck?!?!

On the way home George starting talking about the Traverse and how we got 'shut down'. He laughed that God shut the door to that deal really quick. Wagging his finger in the air he said (with a very thick Spanish accent) 'No, No Jorge! Not today Jorge!!". I of course I laughed and asked him if that is how God sounds, to which he responded 'To me he does!' We both laughed as we quickly unloaded the car of child and gifts. His comment, however stayed on my mind.

I thought about what George had said and thought about what God's voice sounds like to me. Perhaps I should say what the Holy Spirits 'voice' sounds like to me. When I am 'chatting' with the Lord about light hearted things and I need a friend, I get a very witty response from him which includes words like 'dude', 'little fella', 'girl' and phrases such as 'Oh my', 'Now you know good and well...', and 'Puh-lease'. You see, when I chat with the Lord - sometimes I laugh. He makes me laugh because he has a sense of humor - he has to, why else would he have given me a sense of humor?

There are times, however, when I do not feel like laughing. Times when I am sad and I guidance and not a friend. These are the times when the Lord's voice is very soothing. Very calm and to the point. He very quickly, in a very loving tone reminds me who he is. He feels me with a sense of security because of what he says and how he says it. I truly find rest in the voice of the Lord.

So, does he speak to everyone the way he speaks to me? Maybe, but I don't think so. I am sure he says the same things, but the way he says them is probably different. As I thought about this, I realized that the voice of the Lord is very similar to the voice of the women in my family, mainly mama - but also all the other women including Grandma. You see, they are the one's who I have always laughed and cried with. They are the ones who get late night phone calls of panic and distress and talk me off the ledge. They are the earthly people who I have always ran to 'to make it all better'. It only makes sense that the voices that love the me the most would be the voice that accompanies God's words to me. Does that make any sense at all?

I know plenty of God fearing people who I am sure talk to the Lord daily. I feel certain God does not say to them 'Whatever giruhl, you are too crazy!!'. I just find it hard to believe - I could be wrong. I find it hard to believe that when the Lord speaks to my non-English speaking Mother-in-Law that he says 'Dude, those quesadilla's look awesome!'. I think he probably speaks very revrent with a soft tone and in Spanish. He speaks all the languages - not just Southern.

Now, please do not think that I am trying to paint God as a sufer dude. I am just saying that when he speaks to me he is funny at times. He is my very best friend which means - I think- he takes on the personality of someone I would actually be friends with on Earth. I think he does that for all of us. When I call my closest friends we can tell with in the first 30 seconds if it is going to a funny call or an 'I need advice' call. God takes way less than 30 seconds!

So, I don't doubt that God sometimes calls George 'Jorge' and speaks in a thick accent. Why not - George does that and so does his family when they are being funny. I am sure when God is teaching and comforting George he drops the accent and speaks in a loving, reassuring tone - whatever that is to George. God is ever amazing to me - continually shows me how Great he is. One day 'Dude' will drop from my vocabulary and I am sure it will then drop from the Lords and will be replaced with something else. How does the Lord speak to you? Do you even know?

2008-12-02T06:42:00.000-08:00

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him. Psalm 28:7

I am not entirely sure how to start this entry off since there are so many things on my mind that I want to get written down. You see, I have been a 'Christian' since my conception and have been saved for many years now, yet I still have that moment of panic that hits just before I see God move in my life (and the life of others). When God get ready to show you just who is in control of the show, he leaves no stone unturned!

A couple of weeks ago I noticed that my paycheck had me listed as single rather than married, so I called HR and got that switched. That little change resulted in almost $270 additional each month. I was very grateful for that as was George. Finally things were starting to look a little better - we had a few credit cards paid off, baby expenses were leveling off, the house in Orlando was in good shape and now we had a little bit of extra income. I felt great - I was already decorating the front rooms of the house in my mind.

I sat at my desk as my coworker shared that he and his family were in some pretty tough financial times. He is the only one that works plus they have 4 children. Now, he is an associate pastor at his church so he was already trusting in the Lord, but you could see that he was in distress. I told him 'John, you continue to give God what is his and he will meet your every need.' I meant that and he knew it to be the truth also. We talked on and then I got an email from Ty. Funny, in the middle of my conversation with John (while I was over joyed with my current financial situation) God chooses to 'work'.

Now, as you know Ty rents my house in Orlando which helps us out a great deal. He pays 3/4 of the mortgage plus I know the house is being taken care of in my absence. Well, Ty has taken a good job opportunity back in Tallahassee and he will be moving out in 2 weeks. I was not taken by surprise with this email since mama had already given me a heads up. However, there is a big difference in preparing for reality and living reality. While I was very happy for Ty, we now have 2 mortgages.

I realized immediately that God was using this as an opportunity to grow George and I in our faith. I knew that things would probably be tough for a few months, but we needed to trust that the Lord would take care of us. I was ready for the task. I called George and we discussed and he went from panic to calm to panic to calm. I have been through a few more (and much longer) financial droughts than George has so I knew I had to live my faith in front of him as to keep him more in the 'calm' than in the 'panic'.

So here is where we are... we have to rent out the house. This means going through a management company. We will have to pay the management company for their services, we won't be able to rent the house for the amount of the mortgage which means if something happens - we have no back up money. My payment goes up in March because I lost homestead when I moved the Texas. Until it rents we have 2 payments, water and utilities. It's Christmas too... while we don't HAVE to buy for each other, we do have others we must buy for (6 year olds don't understand financial woes!). We have vacation coming up at the end of the month also. To top things off, we are on the last box of diapers that were given to us via the diaper derby at George's office. This means that for the first time since Andrew was born, we have to buy diapers. You know, they ain't cheap!!! So now, that 'raise' I got has been snatched away and then some.

Regardless of the circumstances at hand, I know God is in control. I know this because he has worked such miracles in my life in the past. It is good to look back sometimes because it gives you strength to move forward. George and I sat at the table and discussed what we were going to do and I told him 'It is easy to trust God when you can handle it without him, it is a totally different thing when you realize you can't handle it without him.' I watched George put our tithe check in the offering plate on Sunday and I knew what an act of faith that was. I am excited to see how God moves in our lives over the next few months, but I don't want to wait until he does to praise him for it. This time I am praising him in advance for the blessings that will come.

I know that God may choose not allow my house to rent for 6 months or ever. I also know that if he doesn't then he will provide what we need to make the payments. If a prolonged period of financial struggling is what is needed to grow our faith then I am prepared for that. Don't misunderstand me... I DO NOT want a prolonged period of financial struggling, but if that is part of the plan, then I am willing. Having to fully lean on the Lord and watching him bring us through can only make us better parents, better spouses and better servants. That's the whole point, right?

2008-11-26T06:34:00.000-08:00

Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, And into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, and bless His name. For the LORD is good; His mercy is everlasting, And His truth endures to all generations. Psalms 100:4-5

* March 30, 1978
* November 3,2007
* May 13,2008
* 80’s music
* 10 little fingers & 10 little toes
* A husband that doesn’t think I am fat and tells me I look great
* Nonfat Latte’s with extra whipped cream. =)
* A mother who raised me to make my bed every morning.
* The freedom to leave the house without making my bed in the morning.
* Water Parks with lazy rivers.
* Little Brown weenie dogs.
* A family that loves me and in laws that do as well.
* Knowing His voice.
* Bath time in with a cherub and a duck tub.
* Christian bosses and coworkers.
* Rainy Days.
* Sunshine Rays (sorry about the rhyming).
* A job I love!
* Baby Orajel
* Clothes that fit.
* 5:00 am spin classes.
* Costume Jewelry.
* Daycare workers who love my child.
* Having 5 Super Wal-Mart’s within 15 miles of the house.
* Pastries and Coffee on a Friday night.
* Bobby Bowden.
* Highways that stretch from Florida to Texas.
* MUCH cheaper gas.
* Dark Chocolate.
* A daddy that wants to build a bookshelf for his grandson.
* Mushroom & Garlic – no fat, tons of flavor.
* BOGO at Payless – year round now!
* $5 off coupons for Enfamil.
* Friends who are persevering through the hurt!
* Nail scared hands and an empty tomb.
* Cameras that capture moments I don’t want to miss.
* Collard Greens.
* The storage compartment under Andrew’s stroller.
* Hair Spray
* A past that was tough enough that I am looking forward to the future, but no so tough that I can’t look back and smile.
* Birds that chirp in the spring
* The sunrise that I get to see on my way home from the gym in the mornings.
* Baby Monitors
* Sugar Cereals
* Face Moisturizer
* Drinking Water (as opposed to Spring Water)
* Rocking Chairs on my parents porch.
* My diploma from FSU.
* Conference calls that end early.
* The opportunity to rock my baby to sleep each night.

What are you thankful for?

2008-11-12T06:38:00.000-08:00

Making a vow, she pleaded, "LORD of Hosts, if You will take notice of Your servant's affliction, remember and not forget me, and give Your servant a son, I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life. 1 Samuel 1:11

It wasn't very long into my pregnancy that I began to realize how truly paranoid I am. I had read all the stories and talked to many other women who had walked this road before me and so I knew that the paranoia was just part of territory. I, however, felt that I should be above that. I knew God had created this child for a purpose and that he would take care of him according to his will. It was the 'according to his will' part that created a sense of panic in me.

I cannot count the sleepless nights I would lay awake counting kicks. If they were less in number than the night before, I would convince myself that something was wrong. I grew so concerned about the lack of kicks one night that I called mama and cried hysterically. Her response came in a tone that indicated I was in fact insane - she says 'Goodness Libby, the little fella needs to sleep to. You won't even let him take a nap!' It was true - I was constantly thumping my belly to wake him up so I could feel him move. Amazing that he doesn't hate me.

I was on my way home from work one night and cried all the way home. I was in my 25th week, approximatly, and Andrew just wasn't very active. I didn't feel him move all day. I just knew something had happened. I was still feeling so much guilt over the pregnancy, that my fears were being driven by this idea that something would happen as God's way of punishing me(I have since resolved that). Here I was though, weeping in my car because I thought God had allowed something to happen to Andrew.

I was stopped at the red light going into our neighborhood and I dropped my head and prayed for peace that Andrew was ok. I got peace - but it came from an unexpected answer. Many of you have never heard the Lord speak to you. Until you do, this may seem strange to you. The Lord spoke to me immediatly as I prayed. He simply said ' I will never leave you.'. I know this was the Lord for 2 reasons - first, I know his voice and second, if it had been my inner conscience, it would have said 'Andrew is fine, he will live a long and happy life!'. This isn't what was said or promised.

'I will never leave you'. Much more desireable and peaceful to a child of God. It was at that very moment I gave Andrew back to the Lord. Andrew is God's to with what he pleases. I know he pleases great things for Andrew's life - just as he does for yours and mine. I cannot wait to see what he does in Andrew's life - according to his will. It is a joy and a priveledge to watch it unfold.
A couple of weeks ago George and I had the opportunity to publicly give Andrew back to Lord. We participated in the Parent/Child Dedication ceremony at our church. There were probably about 50 couples presenting their children and I took a quick look just to confirm that we had the cutest and best dressed baby. CONFIRMED! We were surrounded by family and friends and for as simple as it was, it was oh so meaningful. Andrew is only on loan to me from the Lord and I pray that I am the mama He is trusting me to be with His child. For as much as I love him, God loves him so much more. It is true, I would die for him if I had to - but Jesus already died for him and he didn't have to.

I still have that fear that one day something may happen to Andrew and God will call him home before I feel the time is right. When this fear starts to creep up on me I am reminded of those words, 'I will never leave you', and my fear fades. Steven Curtis Chapman wrote a song about a year ago, 'Yours', which he has recently released. Many of you know that in May, he lost his 5 year old daughter after she was hit by a car his son was driving. It was after this accident that he added the last verse to the song which goes like this:

I’ve walked the valley of death’s shadow
So deep and dark that I could barely breath
I’ve had to let go of more than I could bear
And questioned everything that I believe
But still even here in this great darkness
A comfort and hope come breaking through
As I can say in life or death
God we belong to you

This is truly the peace that passes all understanding. I think Steven Curtis Chapman has it and I am so glad that I do too.

2008-10-27T11:34:00.000-07:00

The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon Me... To comfort all who mourn, To console those who mourn in Zion, To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified Isaiah 61:1-3

Do you know what this weekend is? This is the first weekend of
November and George and I will celebrate our 1 year wedding
anniversary this weekend. We won't be doing anything major to
celebrate, probably just a nice dinner somewhere... just the
two of us. Of course, that is a rare occasion these days. Not
often do parents with a 5 month old get much time alone.
I have been thinking a lot in the past few weeks about Nov. 3,
2007. What a day that was! Most of you were there. I couldn't
have been happier with my wedding, unless you count the fact
that more reception time would have been nice. I loved the
flowers, the music, the dress, the groom and the cake...boy,
did I love the cake! It was exactly what I wanted, even though
it will probably never be featured in Bride's magazine.
Here we are a year later and we are still pluggin' along. A
lot has changed. The honeymoon ended a lot sooner for us than
for most couples. We were faced with some pretty heavy issues
right off the bat and we found out that there is a reason why
God has an order for things. I would not recommend starting
out your marriage with a precious bundle blooming in your once
trim belly.

In the weeks that followed our wedding we busied ourselves
with getting all my stuff moved in, buying nursery furniture,
buying larger clothes and then even larger clothes. We learned
that while leaving my jewelry on the table is not a big deal
to me, it is maddening to George. Likewise, George can't see
the point in rinsing out his cereal bowl while all I can see
is extra minutes scrubbing that bowl before it can go in the
dish washer. I still haven't figured out why he thinks I
should do laundry on the night he wants it done rather than
the night I have time to do it. I mean, if you still have
clean underwear then what's the rush? By the time May rolled
around, when I did laundry was no longer an issue since I
couldn't get into the laundry basket unless I wanted to risk
not getting out of it.

Seven months into marriage and we were quite proud, we had
done pretty good. Then this... THING... came rising up out of
my belly (literally). This thing which I just knew would come out wearing
a sombrero instead came out with overalls and piece of hay
hanging out of his mouth. This thing changed our comfy little
marriage and left me with what my sister in laws lovingly
referred to as 'pizza dough' where a once cute belly button used to
be. I'd like to say I was as lovely as Jessica Alba post birth
- but, not so much. And George... good Lord, get that boy a nap!

OK, things did level off...well, they ARE leveling off. We are
adjusting. We haven't killed each other...yet (though some days we want to and other days we wish we had). We don't regret
getting married and we certainly don't regret that 'thing' which
has now become our very heartbeat. We have become a family -
warts and all complete with a 'sweet' little brown puppy.

Andrew is, at the moment, perfect. George however, is not
perfect. I'd like to think that I am close, but I think George
would tell you real quick that I am not. I have always heard
that the first year of marriage is the hardest. This made me
very glad to see 11/03/08 coming, then, out of the blue, mama
informs me that it is the first 5 years that are the hardest.
Crap...

In all seriousness though, I say it is true - The Spirit of
the Lord is upon me and he has given me beauty for ashes. God
took the ashes of my panic attacks and gave me the beauty of a
happy and evolving marriage. God took the ashes of my shame and gave me the
beauty of Andrew. God took the ashes of my sin and gave me the
beauty of Jesus. Take a minute and look at your beauty. Turn
around for a moment, a past full of ashes in exchange for a
future full of beauty.

2008-10-21T19:36:00.000-07:00

I know everyone is different, but to me, that first smell of fall in the air sparks an energy that no other season can. I walked out of work a couple of weeks ago and it was cloudy, windy and somewhat chilly. Ahh, I took one deep breath and all I wanted to do was carve a pumpkin! Have you any idea the feeling I am talking about? Well, I still have not carved a pumpkin, but we did take the time this past weekend to go to Dewberry Farm and have pictures taken in the pumpkin patch!

OK, so I feel a little like a fool because I was so determined to take my 5 month old to the Pumpkin Patch for pictures, that I didn't really think it through. The place was really meant for kids that can walk. We paid $22 to get into the place to take these pictures when we could have taken them for free at any of the local Methodist churches. Which leads me to ask, why is it always the Methodist churches that have pumpkin patches? Why don't other denominations have them? Weird. I digress. As you can tell from the above picture, at first Andrew was a little skeptical of the object that was in front of him. I can't blame him - after all, this pumpkin has a lot of warts.

OK, now we are a little happier. While this little pumpkin looks more like an enormous acorn, at least it doesn't have warts. The picture, in my humble opinion, only reiterates the shirt, he is in fact too cute to scare. Since Andrew still cannot really sit up unassisted, I was very grateful for the obese pumpkins that helped me get the pictures. We looked liked the fools that I believe God intended us to look like when he decided we should be parents. I had the camera and George had the video camera. We were both down on the ground just trying to get the best picture and making all kinds of baby noises hoping to get a smile. We didn't...

So, we then decided we should throw Andrew's little head in the farm animal cutout. I can just hear him saying 'How humiliating!'. I think the picture is adorable, but I think one day he will beg to differ. I wonder what he will think of the pictures we will take of him as a giraffe on Halloween. How cute will that be? You may notice niece Kennedy's face in the picture as well. No clue who the horse is.

I thought all the folks back home would appreciate a picture of us on a John Deer. I would also like to point out that the shirt I am wearing is a pre-pregnancy shirt. It's the little things that make my day. If you look real close, you can see the grass still stuck to my leg after I rolled all over the ground to get my pumpkin picture.

So, Monica had picked this pretty little pink flower. She gave it to me and somehow not only convinced me to put it in my hair, but then to have my picture taken with it. Listen, to all my 'big' friends out there... when you reach a certain size, there are things you should not do. Putting a flower in your hair attempting to be 'cute' is one of them. In my defense, as well as Andrew's - the camera does add 30 pounds. Sure, I know they say it is 10 pounds, but after looking at these pictures, we both agree that 30 pounds have been added.

After a long day of corn mazes, duck ponds and warted pumpkins, baby Andrew was very tired. We got home, got him bathed and fed and he was out like a light. I in no way regret paying $22 to have a 5 month olds picture taken in the pumpkin patch. How great is this kid? It occurred to me a couple of weeks ago that Andrew's job was to turn on the sun each morning and put it to bed each night. Of course, we know whose job that really is and I cannot thank Him enough for this blessing named Andrew.

What's up with that name?

2008-10-08T13:27:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I decided to create a blog rather than sending out emails every month or so. This way, if you want to read what I am saying then you can, and if you don't then I am not taking up space in your 'inbox'. This blog will be dedicated to my life as a wife, mother, daughter and employee and how the Lord is using these roles to 'refine' me into his image. You may ask 'Why do you want to do that?". The answer is simple - I feel led to do that. If no one reads it (and I know mama will), then at least I have my own personal online journal.

So, what's up with the name - 'Another Nut that Needs to Dust!'? Well, this is a story that is hystercal to me and mama - but you may have needed to be there for it to be funny to you. I am sorry to 'go there' again, but I have take you back to the beginning of the panic attacks - before we even knew I was having panic attacks.

As you may know, one morning - very early morning - I woke up with what felt like an elephant on my chest. It was so painful. I had no idea why, but I was overwhelmingly sad and could not stop crying. CRY, CRY, CRY! Not fun for me or for anyone in close proximity. As the sun rose and I made myself to work, the feeling kept getting progressivly worse - the crying would not stop and my thoughts were very irrational.

So, what did I do. Those of you who know me very well at all know I called mama. I explained everything to her in very short, raspy breaths. She told me to go into the stairwell at the office and pray. I did... nothing, kept getting worse. Mama, in her infinite wisdom realized this could be BIG. As soon as daddy got home from work, they headed to Orlando.

When they got there, they found George in the kitchen with a blank look on his face and me in the bed - fetal position. Let me assure you, NO ONE was laughing at this point. There are probably no words to explain the pain any of us felt. If you have any history with panic attacks or any kind of mental illness, then no words are needed. Never fear though, Wonder Mom was here. I feel certain she had on her cape.

We gathered around the table that night for dinner - ignoring the elephant in the room. Daddy went and got KFC for us all. Mind you, I had not eaten in 2 days at that point and this would continue for another 2 weeks and 14 pounds. So I watched in disgust as daddy, Ty and George gladly ate that chicken - bones and all, I swear. Ugh... It was then that mama concluded that tomorrow morning we would get up early and she I would clean the house - top to bottom. The men could do the yard. And that is what we did.

You see, cleaning is therapy for mama. When she is 'sad' she cleans and she feels better. So, logically, I was sad and I needed to clean to feel better. She was all over that house like a wild woman. Curtains came down, soap scum was banished, dust bunnies begone. And I cleaned the refridgerator. It was about all I did, but don't down play it. When the men came in, the fridge was the only thing they commented on. =)

Mama was so proud, she looked at me and smiled, I looked at her and cried. Wonder mom wasn't defeated though (even though the evening concluded with a trip to the ER)... nope she just looked at me and said 'Tomorrow we are going to get up early and just you and I are going shopping in Mt. Dora and have a nice breakfast!'. That would make me feel better...right?

So, we got up and headed out the door. We drove to Mt Dora and stopped at a little place for breakfast - which I didn't want any part of. I ordered the pancakes and a tall glass of milk. Mama got her a nice platter as well. I ate 1 bite and was very full... I just cried and cried. I litterally cried so much that the poor waitress came to refill mama's tea and asked 'Is everything ok here... with...the...food?' We left her a good tip. I cried all day and all the way home. I cried for the next year.

That night, mama kicked back in the recliner, defeated and stunned. Wonder Mom was now worried mom. She looked at me and said,

'Well, I've learned something new about people with anxiety.'

'What's that, mom?'.

She says 'Until yesterday I always looked at someone who claimed they were having

anxiety attacks and said 'Ah, just another nut that needs to dust', guess that's doesn't

always work.'

We laughed...

It wasn't the last laugh, it wasn't the last tear either. But we made it. Me, wonder mom and George too. Amazingly, by God's grace we made it. Those were not good times, but they were such sweet, special times that really bring to the surface what true love really is. I have concluded that I am just another nut that needs to dust, but aren't we all?